Q 


TI'-^BK'S    rA!."R 


)0T^. 


V 


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[J 


STUBBS'S  CALENDAR 


OR, 


THE   FATAL   BOOTS^ 


w\  M.^THACKERAY, 

AUTHOR    OF    "  VANITY    FAIR,"    "  MRS.    PERKINS'S    BALL,' 
ETC.,   ETC.,    ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED    BY    GEORGE    CRUIKSHANK. 


NEW-YORK : 

STRINGER    &    TOWNSEND, 

1850. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

CHAPTER  I. 
The  Birth  of  the  Heir, 5 


CHAPTER  II. 

Cutting  Weather, 14 

CHAPTER  III-. 
Showery, 23 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Fooiino;, 32 

CHAPTER  V. 
Restoration  Day,  ......         41 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Marrowbones  and  Cleavers,      .....     50 


4  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Summery  Proceedings, 59 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Dogs  have  their  Days, 68 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Phicking  a  Goose, ' ' 

CHAPTER  X. 
Mars  and  Venus  in  Opposition,         .         .         •         .86 

CHAPTER  XI. 
A  General  Post  DeUvery, 95 

CHAPTER  XII. 

"  The  Winter  of  our  Discontent,"      ....  104 


STUMS'S  CALENDAR; 

OB, 

THE     FATAL     BOOTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE     BIRTH     OF     THE     HEIR. 

Some  poet  has  observed,  that  if  any  man  would  write 
down  what  has  really  happened  to  him  in  this  mortal 
life,  he  would  be  sure  to  make  a  good  book,  though  he 
never  had  met  with  a  single  adventure  from  his  birth 
to  his  burial ;  how  much  more,  then,  must  I,  who  have 
had  adventures,  most  singular,  pathetic,  and  unparal- 
leled, be  able  to  compile  an  instructive  and  entertain- 
ing volume  for  the  use  of  the  public. 


6  THE    BIRTH   OF   THE   HEIR. 

I  don't  mean  to  say  that  I  have  killed  lions,  or  seen 
the  wonders  of  travel  in  the  deserts  of  Arahia  or  Prus- 
sia ;  or  that  I  have  been  a  very  fashionable  character, 
living  with  dukes  and  peeresses,  and  writing  my  recol- 
lections of  them  as  the  way  now  is.  I  never  left  this 
my  native  isle,  nor  spoke  to  a  lord  (except  an  Irish 
one,  who  had  rooms  in  our  house,  and  forgot  to  pay 
three  weeks'  lodging  and  extras)  ;  but,  as  our  immor- 
tal bard  observes,  I  have  in  the  course  of  my  existence 
been  so  eaten  up  by  the  slugs  and  harrows  of  outra- 
geous fortune,  and  have  been  the  object  of  such  con- 
tinual and  extraordinary  ill-luck,  that  I  beheve  it  would 
melt  the  heart  of  a  mile-stone  to  read  of  it — that  is,  if 
a  mile-stone  had  a  heart  of  any  thing  but  stone. 

My  adventures  contain  a  part  of  the  history  of  a 
great,  and,  confidently  I  may  say,  a  good  man.  I  was 
not  a  spendthrift  like  other  men.  I  never  wronged 
any  man  of  a  shilling,  though  1  am  as  sharp  a  fellow 
at  a  bargain  as  any  in  Europe.  I  never  injured  a  fel- 
low-creature ;  on  the  contrary,  on  several  occasions, 
when  injured  myself,  have  shown  the  most  wonderful 


THE    BIRTH   OF    THE   HEIR.  7 

forbearance.  I  come  of  a  tolerably  good  family  ;  and 
yet,  born  to  wealth — of  an  inoffensive  disposition,  care- 
ful of  the  money  that  I  had,  and  eager  to  get  more,  I 
have  been  going  down  hill  ever  since  my  journey  of 
life  began,  and  have  been  pursued  by  a  complication  of 
misfortunes  such  as  surely  never  happened  to  any  man 
but  the  unhappy  Bob  Stubbs. 

Bob  Stubbs  is  my  name ;  and  I  haven't  got  a  sliil- 
ling :  I  have  borne  the  commission  of  a  lieutenant  in 
the  service  of  King  George,  and  am  now — but  never 
mind  what  I  am  now,  for  the  public  will  know  in  a  few 
pages  more.  My  father  was  of  the  Suffolk  Stubbses 
— a  well-to-do  gentleman  of  Bungay.  My  grandfather 
had  been  a  respected  attorney  in  that  town,  and  left  my 
papa  a  pretty  little  fortune.  I  was  thus  the  inheritor 
of  competence,  and  ought  to  be  at  this  moment  a  gen- 
tleman. 

My  misfortunes  may  be  said  to  "liave  commenced 
about  a  year  before  my  birth,  when  my  papa,  a  young 
fellow  pretending  to  study  the  law  in  London,  fell 
madly  in   love   with  Miss  Smith,  the  daugliter  of  a 


8  THE    BIRTH   OF   THE   HEIK. 

tradesman,  who  did  not  give  her  a  sixpence,  and  after- 
wards became  bankrupt.  My  papa  married  this  Miss 
Smith,  and  carried  her  off  to  the  country,  where  I  was 
born,  in  an  evil  hour  for  me. 

Were  I  to  attempt  to  describe  my  early  years,  you 
would  laugh  at  me  as  an  impostor  ;  but  the  following 
letter  from  mamma  to  a  friend  after  her  marriage,  will 
pretty  well  show  you  what  a  poor  foohsh  creature  she 
was  ;  and  what  a  reckless  extravagant  fellow  was  my 
other  unfortunate  parent. 


To  Miss  Eliza  Hicks,  in  Gracechurch  Street,  London. 

O  Eliza!  your  Susan  is  the  happiest  girl  under 
heaven !  My  Thomas  is  an  angel !  not  a  tall  grena- 
dier-like looking  fellow,  such  as  I  always  vowed  I 
would  marry  : — on  the  contrary,  he  is  what  the  world 
would  call  dump^  and  I  hesitate  not  to  confess,  that 
his  eyes  have  a  cast  in  them.  But  what  then  ?  when 
one  of  Ms  eyes  is  fixed  on  me,  and  one  on  my  babe, 
they  are  lighted  up  with  an  affection  which  my  pen 


THE   BIRTH   OF   THE    HEIR.  9 

cannot  describe,  and  wliich,  certainly,  was  never  be- 
stowed upon  any  woman  so  strongly  as  upon  yoaj* 
happy  Susan  Stubbs. 

Wlien  he  comes  home  from  shooting,  or  the  farm, 
if  you  could  see  dear  Thomas  with  me  and  our  dear 
little  Bob  !  as  I  sit  on  one  knee,  and  baby  on  the  other, 
and  as  he  dances  us  both  about.  I  often  wish  that  we 
had  Sir  Joshua,  or  some  great  painter,  to  depict  the 
group ;  for  sure  it  is  the  prettiest  picture  in  the  whole 
world,  to  see  three  such  loving  merry  people. 

Dear  baby  is  the  most  lovely  little  creature  that  can 
possibly  he, — the  very  image  of  papa  ;  he  is  cutting  his 
teeth,  and  the  delight  of  every  body.  Nurse  says,  that, 
when  he  is  older,  he  will  get  rid  of  his  squint,  and  his 
hair  will  get  a  great  deal  less  red.  Doctor  Bates  is  as 
kind,  and  skilful,  and  attentive  as  we  could  desire. 
Think  what  a  blessing  to  have  had  liim  !  Ever  since 
poor  baby's  birth,  it  has  never  had  a  day  of  quiet ;  and 
he  has  been  obliged  to  give  it  from  three  to  four  doses 
every  week  ; — how  thankful  ought  we  to  be  that  the 
dear  thing  is  as  well  as  it  is  !     It  got  through  the  mea- 


10  THE   BIRTH   OF    THE   HEIR. 

sles  wonderfully ;  then  it  had  a  little  rash  ;  and  then  a 
nasty  hooping  cough  ;  and  then  a  fever,  and  continual 
pains  in  its  poor  little  stomach,  crying,  poor  dear  child, 
from  morning  till  night. 

But  dear  Tom  is  an  excellent  nurse  ;  and  many  and 
many  a  night  has  he  had  no  sleep,  dear  man  !  in  con- 
sequence of  the  poor  httle  baby.  He  walks  np  and 
down  with  it  for  hours,  singing  a  kind  of  song  (dear 
fellow,  he  has  no  more  voice  than  a  tea-kettle),  and 
bobbing  his  head  backwards  and  forwards,  and  looking, 
in  his  night-cap  and  dressing-gown,  so  droll.  Oh, 
Eliza  !  how  you  would  laugh  to  see  him. 

We  have  one  of  the  best  nursemaids  in  the  world, 
— an  Irish  woman,  who  is  as  fond  of  baby  almost  as 
liis  mother  (but  that  can  never  be).  She  takes  it  to 
walk  in  the  Park  for  hours  together,  and  I  really  don't 
know  why  Thomas  dislikes  her.  He  says  she  is  tipsy 
very  often,  and  slovenly,  wliich  I  cannot  conceive  ; — 
to  be  sure,  the  nurse  is  sadly  dirty,  and  sometimes 
smells  very  strong  of  gin. 

But  what  of  that  ?  these  little  drawbacks  only  make 


THE   BIRTH  OF   THE   HEIR.  11 

home  more  pleasant.  When  one  thinks  how  many 
mothers  have  no  nursemaids  :  how  many  poor  dear 
children  have  no  doctors :  ought  we  not  to  be  thankful 
for  Mary  Malowney,  and  that  Dr.  Bates's  bill  is  forty- 
seven  pounds  ?  How  ill  must  dear  baby  have  been,  to 
require  so  much  physic  ! 

But  they  are  a  sad  expense,  these  dear  babies,  after 
all.  Fancy,  Eliza,  how  much  tlais  Mary  [Malowney 
costs  us.  Ten  shillings  every  week  ;  a  glass  of  brandy 
or  gin  at  dinner ;  three  pint  bottles  of  Mr.  ThraJe's 
best  porter  every  day, — making  twenty-one  in  a  week  ; 
and  nine  hundred  and  ninety  in  the  eleven  months  she 
has  been  with  us.  Then,  for  baby,  there  is  Dr.  Bates's 
bill  of  forty-five  guineas,  two  guineas  for  christening, 
twenty  for  a  grand  christening  supper  and  ball  (rich 
uncle  John  mortally  offended  because  he  was  made 
godfather,  and  had  to  give  baby  a  silver  cup  ;  he  has 
struck  Thomas  out  of  his  will ;  and  old ,  Mr.  Firkin 
quite  as  much  hurt  because  he  was  not  asked  :  he  will 
not  speak  to  me  or  John  in  consequence)  ;  twenty 
guineas  for  flannels,  laces,  little  gowns,  caps,  napkins? 


12  THE   BIRTH   OF   THE   HEIR. 

and  such  baby's  ware ;  and  all  this  out  of  £300  a 
year  !  But  Thomas  expects  to  make  a  great  deal  by 
his  farm. 

We  have  got  the  most  charming  country-house 
you  can  imagine  :  it  is  quite  shut  in  by  trees,  and  so 
retired,  that,  though  only  thirty  miles  from  London, 
the  post  comes  to  us  but  once  a  week.  The  roads,  it 
must  be  confessed,  are  execrable;  it  is  winter  now, 
and  we  are  up  to  our  knees  in  mud  and  snow.  But 
oh,  Eliza !  how  happy  we  are  :  with  Thomas  (he  has 
had  a  sad  attack  of  rheumatism,  dear  man  !)  and  httle 
Bobby,  and  our  kind  friend  Dr.  Bates,  who  comes  so 
far  to  see  us,  I  leave  you  to  fancy  that  we  have  a 
charming  merry  party,  and  do  not  care  for  all  the 
gayeties  of  Ranelagh. 

Adieu !  dear  l)aby  is  crying  for  his  mamma :  a 
thousand  kisses  from  your  affectionate 

SUSAN  STUBBS. 


THE    BIRTH   OF    THE   HEIR.  13 

There  it  is.  Doctor's  bills,  gentleman-farming, 
twenty-one  pints  of  porter  a  week ;  in  this  way  my 
unnatural  parents  were  already  robbing  me  of  my 
property. 


CHAPTER  II. 

CUTTING      WEATHER. 

I  HAVE  called  this  chapter  "  cutting  weather,"  partly 
in  compliment  to  the  month  of  February,  and  partly  in 
respect  of  my  own  misfortunes  wliich  you  are  going 
to  read  about,  for  I  have  often  thought  that  January 
(which  is  mostly  twelfth  cake  and  holiday  time)  is  like 
the  first  four  or  five  years  of  a  little  boy's  life ;  then 
comes  dismal  February,  and  the  working  days  with  it, 
when  chaps  begin  to  look  out  for  themselves,  after  the 
Christmas  and  the  New-Year's  hey-day  and  merry- 
making are  over,  which  our  infancy  may  well  be  said 
to  1)6.  Well  can  I  recollect  that  bitter  first  of  Febru- 
ary, when  I  first  launched  out  into  the  world  and  ap- 
peared at  Dr.  Swishtail's  academy. 

I  began  at  school  that  life  of  prudence  and  econo- 


CUTTING   WEATHER.  16 

my,  which  I  have  carried  on  ever  since.  My  mother 
gave  me  eighteen  pence  on  setting  out  (poor  soul !  I 
thought  her  heart  would  break  as  she  kissed  me,  and 
bade  God  bless  me)  ;  and  besides,  I  had  a  small  capital 
of  my  own,  which  I  had  amassed  for  a  year  previous. 
I'll  tell  you  what  I  used  to  do.  Wherever  I  saw  six 
half-pence  I  took  one.  If  it  was  asked  for,  I  said  I 
had  taken  it,  and  gave  it  back ; — if  it  was  not  missed, 
I  said  nothing  about  it,  as  why  should  I  ? — those  who 
don't  miss  their  money  don't  lose  their  money.  So  I 
had  a  little  private  fortune  of  three  shillings,  besides 
mother's  eighteen  pence.  At  school  they  called  me 
the  copper  merchant,  I  had  such  lots  of  it. 

Now,  even  at  a  preparatory  school,  a  well-regula- 
ted boy  may  better  liimself :  and  I  can  tell  you  I  did. 
I  never  was  in  any  quarrels :  I  never  was  very  high  in 
the  class  or  very  low ;  but  there  was  no  chap  so  much 
respected : — and  why  ?  Vd  always  money.  The 
other  boys  spent  all  theirs  in  the  first  day  or  two,  and 
they  gave  me  plenty  of  cakes  and  barley-sugar  then,  I 
can  tell  you.     I'd  no  need  to  spend  my  own  money, 


16  CUTTING   WEATHER. 

for  they  would  insist  upon  treating  me.  Well,  in  a 
week,  when  theirs  was  gone,  and  they  had  but  their 
threepence  a  week  to  look  to  for  the  rest  of  the  half- 
year,  what  did  I  do  ?  Why,  I  am  proud  to  say  that 
three-halfpence  out  of  the  threepence  a  week  of  al- 
most all  the  young  gentlemen  at  Dr.  Swishtail's,  came 
into  my  pocket.  Suppose,  for  instance,  Tom  Hicks 
wanted  a  slice  of  gingerbread,  who  had  the  money  ? 
Little  Bob  Stubbs  to  be  sure.  "  Hicks,"  I  used  to 
say,  "  TU  buy  you  threehalfp'orth  of  gingerbread,  if 
you'll  give  me  threepence  next  -Saturday :  and  he 
agreed,  and  next  Saturday  came,  and  he  very  often 
could  not  pay  me  more  than  three-halfpence,  then 
there  was  the  threepence  I  was  to  have  the  next  Sat- 
urday. I'll  tell  you  what  I  did  for  a  whole  half-year  : 
— I  lent  a  chap,  by  the  name  of  Dick  Bunting,  three- 
half-pence  the  first  Saturday,  for  threepence  the  next ; 
he  could  not  pay  me  more  than  half  when  Saturday 
came,  and  I'm  blest  if  I  did  not  make  liim  pay  me 
three-half-pence  for  three  and  tiventy  toeeks  running, 
making  two  shillings  and  ten-pence-halfpenny.     But 


CUTTING    WEATHER.  17 

he  was  a  sad  dishonorable  fellow,  Dick  Bunting  ;  for, 
after  I  had  been  so  kind  to  him,  and  let  liim  off  for 
three  and  twenty  weeks  the  money  he  owed  me,  holi- 
days came,  and  threepence  he  owed  me  still.  Well, 
according  to  the  common  principles  of  practice,  after 
six  weeks'  hohdays,  he  ought  to  have  paid  me  exactly 
sixteen  shillings,  which  was  my  due.     For  the 


First  week  the  3d.  would  be 

Gd. 

Second  week, 

.     Is. 

Third  week,         .... 

2s. 

Fourth  week, 

.     4s. 

Fifth  week,          .... 

8s. 

Sixth  week, 

.  16s. 

Nothing  could  be  more  just :  and  yet,  will  it  be 
believed?  when  Bunting  came  back,  he  offered  me 
three-halfpence !  the  mean,  dishonest  scoundrel  ! 

However,  I  was  even  with  him,  I  can  tell  you. — 
He  spent  all  his  money  in  a  fortnight,  and  then  I 
screwed  him  down  !     I  made  him,  besides  giving  me  a 


18  CUTTING   WEATHEK. 

penny  for  a  penny,  pay  me  a  quarter  of  his  bread  and 
butter  at  breakfast,  and  a  quarter  of  his  cheese  at  sup- 
per ;  and  before  the  half-year  was  out,  I  got  from  him 
a  silver  fruit  knife,  a  box  of  compasses,  and  a  very 
pretty  silver-laced  waistcoat,  in  which  I  went  home  as 
proud  as  a  king :  and,  what's  more,  I  had  no  less  than 
three  golden  guineas  in  the  pocket  of  it,  besides  fif- 
teen sliillings,  the  knife,  and  a  brass  bottle  screw, 
which  I  got  from  another  chap.  It  wasn't  bad  interest 
for  twelve  shillings,  which  was  all  the  money  I'd  had 
in  the  year,  was  it  ?  Heigh  ho !  I've  often  wished 
that  I  could  get  such  a  chance  again  in  this  wicked 
world;  but  men  are  more  avaricious  now  than  they 
used  to  be  in  those  dear  early  days. 

Well,  I  went  home  in  my  new  waistcoat  as  fine  as 
a  peacock ;  and  when  I  gave  the  bottle  screw  to  my 
father,  begging  him  to  take  it  as  a  token  of  my  afiec- 
tion  for  him,  my  dear  mother  burst  into  such  a  fit  of 
tears  as  I  never  saw,  and  kissed  and  hugged  me  fit  to 
smother  me.  "  Bless  him,  bless  him,"  says  she,  "  to 
think  of  his  old  father.     And  where  did  you  purcliase 


CUTTING   WEATHER.  19 

it,  Bob  ?" — "  Why,  mother,"  says  I,  "  I  purchased  it 
out  of  my  savings"  (which  was  as  true  as  the  gospel). 
— ^When  I  said  this,  mother  looked  round  to  father, 
smiUng,  although  she  had  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  she 
took  his  hand,  and  with  her  other  hand  drew  me  to 
her.   "  Is  he  not  a  noble  boy  ?"  says  she  to  my  father : 
"  and  only  nine  years  old !" — "  Faith,"  says  my  father, 
"  he  is  a  good  lad,  Susan.     Thank  thee,  my  boy :  and 
here  is  a  crown  piece  in  return  for  thy  bottle  screw ; 
it  shall  open  us  a  bottle  of  the  very  best,  too,"  says 
my  father :  and  he  kept  his  word.     I  always  was  fond 
of  good  wine  (though  never,  from  a  motive  of  proper 
self-denial,  having  any  in  my  cellar)  ;  and,  by  Jupiter ! 
on  this  night  I  had  my  little  skin  full, — for  there  was 
no  stinting, — so  pleased  were  my  dear  parents  with  the 
bottle  screw. — The  best  of  it  was,  it  only  cost  me  three- 
pence originally,  which  a  chap  could  not  pay  me.     See- 
ing this  game  was  such  a  good  one,  I  became  very 
generous  towards  my  parents :  and  a  capital  way  it  is 
to  encourage  liberality  in  children.     1  gave  mamma  a 
very  neat  brass  thimble,  and  she  gave  me  a  half-guinea 


20  CUTTING   WEATHEn. 

piece.     Then  I  gave  her  a  very  pretty  needle-book, 
vi^hich  I  made  myself  with  an  ace  of  spades  from  a 
new  pack  of  cards  we  had,  and  I  got  Sally,  our  maid, 
to  cover  it  with  a  bit  of  pink  satin  her  mistress  had 
given  her ;  and  I  made  the  leaves  of  the  book,  which  I 
vandyked  very  nicely,  out  of  a  piece  of  flannel  I  had 
had  round  my  neck  for  a  sore  throat.     It  smelt  a  little 
of  hartshorn,  but  it  was  a  beautiful  needle-book ;  and 
mamma  was  so  delighted  with  it,  that  she  went  into 
town,  and  bought  me  a  gold-laced  hat.     Then  I  bought 
papa  a  pretty  china  tobacco-stopper :  but  I  am  sorry  to 
say  of  my  dear  father  that  he  was  not  so  generous  as 
my  mamma  or  myself,  for  he  only  burst  out  laughing, 
and  did  not  give  me  so  much  as  a  half-crown  piece, 
which  was  the  least  T  expected  from  him.     "  I  sha'n't 
give  you  any  thing.  Bob,  this  time,"  says  he ;  "  and  I 
wish,  my  boy,  you  would  not  make  any  more  such 
presents, — for,  really,  they  are  too  expensive."     Ex- 
pensive, ind(>pd  !     I  hate  meanness,-^ven  in  a  father. 
I  must  tell  you  about  the  silver-edged  waistcoat 
which  Bunting  gave  me.     Mamma  asked  me  about  it, 


CUTTING   WEATHER.  21 

and  I  told  her  the  truth, — that  it  was  a  present  from 
one  of  the  boys  for  my  kindness  to  him.  Well,  what 
does  she  do  but  writes  back  to  Dr.  Swishtail,  when  I 
went  to  school,  thanking  him  for  his  attention  to  her 
dear  son,  and  sending  a  shilHng  to  the  good  and  grate- 
ful little  boy  who  had  given  me  the  waistcoat ! 

"  What  waistcoat  is  it,"  says  the  Doctor  to  me, 
"  and  who  gave  it  to  you  ?" 

"  Bunting  gave  it  me,  sir,"  says  I. 

"  Call  Bunting :"  and  up  the  little  ungrateful  cluip 
came.  Would  you  believe  it  ?  he  burst  into  tears, — 
told  that  the  waistcoat  had  been  given  him  by  his 
mother,  and  that  he  had  been  forced  to  give  it  up  for 
a  debt  to  Copper  Merchant,  as  the  nasty  little  black- 
guard called  me.  He  then  said,  how,  for  three-half- 
pence, he  had  been  compelled  to  pay  me  three  sliillings 
(the  sneak  !  as  if  he  had  been  obliged  to  borrow  the 
three-halfpence !) — how  all  the  other  boys  had  been 
swindled  (swindled  !)  by  me  in  like  manner, — and  how, 
with  only  twelve  shillings,  I  had  managed  to  scrape 
together  four  guineas.  *  * 
3 


22  CUTTING    WEATHER. 

My  courage  almost  fails  as  I  describe  the  shameful 
scene  that  followed.  The  boys  were  called  in,  my 
own  little  account-book  was  dragged  out  of  my  cup- 
board, to  prove  how  much  I  had  received  from  each, 
and  every  farthing  of  my  money  was  paid  back  to  them. 
The  tyrant  took  the  thirty  shillings  that  my  dear  pa- 
rents had  given  me,  and  said  he  should  put  them  into 
the  poor  box  at  church ;  and,  after  having  made  a  long 
discourse  to  the  boys  about  meanness  and  usury,  he 
said,  "  Take  off  your  coat,  ]\Ir.  Stubbs,  and  restore 
Bunting  his  waistcoat."  I  did,  and  stood  without  coat 
and  waistcoat  in  the  midst  of  tlie  nasty  grinning  boys. 
I  was  going  to  put  on  my  coat, — 

"Stop,  stop,"  says  he,  "TAKE  DOWN  HIS 
BREECHES !" 

Ruthless,  brutal  villain !  Sam  Hopkins,  the  biggest 
boy,  took  them  down — horsed  me — and  I  was  Jiogged, 
sir;  yes,  flogged!  Oh,  revenge!  I,  Robert  Stubbs, 
who  had  done  notliing  but  what  was  right,  was  brutally 
flogged  at  ten  years  of  age  ! — Though  February  was 
the  shortest  month,  I  remembered  it  long. 


CHAPTEK  111 


SHOWERY. 


When  my  mamma  heard  of  the  treatment  of  her 
darling  she  was  for  bringing  an  action  against  the 
schoolmaster,  or  else  for  tearing  his  eyes  out  (when 
dear  soul  she  would  not  have  torn  the  eyes  out  of  a 
flea,  had  it  been  her  own  injury),  and,  at  the  very  least, 
for  having  me  removed  from  the  school  where  I  had 
been  so  shamefully  treated.  But  papa  was  stern  for 
once,  and  vowed  that  I  had  been  served  quite  right, 
declared  that  I  should  not  be  removed  from  the  school; 
and  sent  old  Swishtail  a  brace  of  pheasants  for  what 
he  called  his  kindness  to  me.  Of  these  the  old  gentle- 
man invited  me  to  partake,  and  made  a  very  queer 
speech  at  dinner,  as  he  was  cutting  them  up,  about  the 
excellence  of  my  parents,  and  his  own  determination  to 


24  SHOWERY. 

be  kinder  still  to  me,  if  ever  I  ventured  on  such  practi* 
ces  again  ;  so- 1  was  obliged  to  give  up  my  old  trade  of 
lending,  for  the  doctor  declared  that  any  one  who  bor- 
rowed should  be  flogged,  and  any  one  who  paid  should 
be  flogged  twice  as  much.  There  was  no  standing 
against  such  a  prohibition  as  this,  and  my  little  com- 
merce was  ruined. 

I  was  not  very  high  in  the  school :  not  having  been 
able  to  get  farther  tlian  that  dreadful  Propria  quce  mari- 
bus  in  the  Latin  grammar,  of  which,  though  I  have  it  by 
heart  even  now,  I  never  could  understand  a  syllable — 
but  on  account  of  my  size,  my  age,  and  the  prayers  of 
my  mother,  was  allowed  to  have  the  privilege  of  the 
bigger  boys,  and  on  holidays  to  walk  about  in  the  town ; 
great  dandies  w^e  were,  too,  when  we  thus  went  out. 
I.  recollect  my  costume  very  well — a  thunder-and- 
lightning  coat,  a  white  waistcoat  embroidered  neatly  at 
the  pockets,  a  lace  frUl,  a  pair  of  knee-breeches,  and 
elegant  white  cotton  or  silk  stockings.  This  did  very 
well,  but  still  I  was  dissatisfied,  I  wanted  a  pair  of 
boots.  Three  boys  in  the  sclwol  liad  boots — I  wa;; 
mad  to  have  them  toe. 


25 


But  my  papa,  when  I  wrote  to  him,  would  not  hear 
of  it ;  and  three  pounds,  the  price  of  a  pair,  was  too 
large  a  sum  for  my  mother  to  take  from  the  house- 
keeping, or  for  me  to  pay,  in  the  present  impoverished 
state  of  my  exchequer ;  but  the  desire  of  the  boots 
was  so  strong,  that  have  them  I  must  at  any  rate. 

There  was  a  German  bootmaker  who  had  just  set 
up  in  our  town  in  those  days,  who  afterwards  made 
his  fortune  in  London ;  I  determined  to  have  the  boots 
from  him,  and  did  not  despair,  before  the  end  of  a  year 
or  two,  either  to  leave  the  school,  when  I  should  not 
mind  his  dunning  me,  or  to  screw  the  money  from 
mamma,  and  so  pay  him. 

So  I  called  upon  this  man — Stiffelkind  was  his 
name — and  he  took  my  measure  for  a  pair. 

"  You  are  a  vary  yong  gentleman  to  wear  dop 
boots,"  said  the  shoemaker, 

"I  suppose,  fellow,"  says  I,  "that  is  my  business 
and  not  yours  ;  either  make  the  boots  or  not — but  when 
you  speak  to  a  man  of  my  rank,  speak  respectfully ;" 
and  I  poured  out  a  number  of  oaths,  in  order  to  impress 
him  with  a  notion  of  my  respectability. 


26  SHOWERY. 

They  had  the  desired  effect. — "  Stay,  sir,"  says  he, 
"  I  have  a  nice  Uttel  pair  of  dop  boots  dat  I  tink  will 
jost  do  for  you,"  and  he  produced,  sure  enough,  the 
most  elegant  things  I  ever  saw.  "  Day  were  made," 
said  he,  "  for  de  Honorable  Mr.  StifFney,  of  de  Gards, 
but  were  too  small." 

"  Ah,  indeed !"  said  I,  "  StifFney  is  a  relation  of 
mine ;  and  what,  you  scoundrel,  will  you  have  the  im- 
pudence to  ask  for  these  things  ?"  He  replied, "  Three 
pounds." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  they  are  confoundedly  dear,  but, 
as  you  will  have  a  long  time  to  wait  for  your  money, 
why,  I  shall  have  my  revenge,  you  see."  The  man 
looked  alarmed,  and  began  a  speech  ;  "  Sare,  I  cannot 
let  dem  go  vidout;" — but  a  bright  thought  struck  me, 
and  I  interrupted — "  Sir !  don't  sir  me — take  off  the 
boots,  fellow,  and,  hark  ye,  when  you  speak  to  a  noble- 
man, don't  say — Sir." 

"  A  hundert  tousand  pardons,  my  lort,"  says  he : 
■■'if  I  had  known  you  were  a  lort,  I  vood  never  have 
called  you — Sir.  Vat  name  shall  I  put  down  in  my 
books  ?" 


27 


"  Name  ? — oh  !  why — Lord  Cornwallis,  to  be 
sure;"  said  I,  as  I  walked  off  in  the  boots. 

"  And  vat  shall  I  do  vid  my  lort's  shoes  ?"  "  Keep 
them  until  I  send  for  them,"  said  I ;  and,  giving  him  a 
patronizing  bow,  I  walked  out  of  the  shop,  as  the  Ger- 
man tied  up  my  shoes  in  a  paper. 

Tliis  story  I  would  not  have  told,  but  that  my 
whole  life  turned  upon  these  accursed  boots.  I 
walked  back  to  school  as  proud  as  a  peacock,  and  ea- 
sily succeeded  in  satisfying  the  boys  as  to  the  manner 
in  which  I  came  by  ray  new  ornaments. 

Well,  one  fatal  Monday  morning,  the  blackest  of 
all  black  Mondays  that  ever  I  knew — as  we  were  all 
of  us  playing  between  school  hours — I  saw  a  posse  of 
boys  round  a  stranger,  who  seemed  to  be  looking  out 
for  one  of  us — a  sudden  trembhng  seized  me — I  knew 
it  was  StifFelkind  :  what  had  brought  him  here  ?  He 
talked  loud,  and  seemed  angry — so  I  rushed  into  the 
school-room,  and,  burying  my  head  between  my  hands, 
began  reading  for  the  dear  life. 


28  SHOWERY. 

"  I  vant  Lort  Cornvallis ;"  said  the  horrid  bootma- 
ker. "  His  lortship  belongs,  I  know,  to  dis  honorable 
school,  for  I  saw  him  vid  de  boys  at  chorch,  yester- 
day." 

"  Lord  who  ?" 

"  Vy,  Lord  Cornvallis  to  be  sure — a  very  fat  young 
nobleman,  vit  red  hair,  he  squints  a  little,  and  svears 
dreadfully." 

"  There's  no  Lord  Cornvallis  here ;"  said  one — and 
there  was  a  pause. 

"  Stop !  I  have  it ;"  says  that  odious  Bunting,  "  It 
must  he  Siuhbs ;"  and  "  Stubbs !  Stubbs !"  every  one 
cried  out,  wliile  I  was  so  busy  at  my  book  as  not  to 
hear  a  word. 

At  last,  two  of  the  biggest  chaps  rushed  into  the 
school-room,  and  seizing  each  an  arm,  run  me  into  the 
play-ground — bolt  up  against  the  shoemaker. 

"  Dis  is  my  man — I  beg  your  lortship's  pardon," 
says  he,  "  I  have  brought  your  lortship's  shoes,  vich 
you  left — see,  dey  have  been  in  dis  parcel  ever  since 
you  vent  avay  in  my  boots." 


SHOWERY.  29* 

"  Shoes,  fellow  !"  says  I,  "  I  never  saw  your  face 
before ;"  for  I  knew  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  bra- 
zening it  out.  "  Upon  the  honor  of  a  gentleman,"  said 
I,  turning  round  to  the  boys — ^they  hesitated ;  and  if 
the  trick  had  tumed  in  my  favor,  fifty  of  them  would 
have  seized  hold  of  Stiffelkmd,  and  drubbed  him 
soundly. 

"  Stop !"  says  Bunting  (hang  him  !),  "  let's  see  the 
shoes — if  they  fit  him,  why,  then,  the  cobbler's  right" 
— they  did  fit  me,  and  not  only  that,  but  the  name  of 
STUBBS  was  written  in  them  at  full  length. 

"  Vat  ?"  said  Stifielkind,  "  is  he  not  a  lort  ?  so  help 
me  himmel,  I  never  did  vonce  tink  of  looking  at  de 
shoes,  which  have  been  lying,  ever  since,  in  dis  piece 
of  brown  paper ;"  and  then  gathering  anger  as  he  went 
on,  thundered  out  so  much  of  his  abuse  of  me,  in  his 
German-English,  that  the  boys  roared  with  laughter. 
Swishtail  came  in  in  the  midst  of  the  disturbance,  and 
asked  what  the  noise  meant. 

"  It's  only  Lord  Comwallis,  sir,"  said  the  boys,, 
"  battling  with  his  shoemaker  about  the  price  of  a  paiv 
of  top-boots," 


30  SHOWERY. 

"  O,  sir,"  said  I,  "  it  was  only  in  fun  that  I  called 
myself  Lord  Cornwallis." 

"  In  fun ! — ^Where  are  the  boots !  And  you,  sir, 
give  me  your  bill."  My  beautiful  boots  were  brought ; 
and  Stiffelkind  produced  his  bill.  "  Lord  Cornwallis 
to  Samuel  Stiffelkind,  for  a  pair  of  boots — four  gui- 
neas." 

"  You  have  been  fool  enough,  sir,"  says  the  doctor, 
looking  very  stern,  "  to  let  tliis  boy  impose  upon  you 
as  a  lord  ;  and  knave  enough  to  charge  him  double  the 
value  of  the  article  you  sold  him.  Take  back  the 
boots,  sir,  I  won't  pay  a  penny  of  your  bill ;  nor  can 
you  get  a  penny.  As  for  you,  sir,  you  miserable  swin- 
dler and  cheat,  I  shall  not  flog  you  as  I  did  before,  but 
I  shall  send  you  home :  you  are  not  fit  to  be  the  com- 
panion of  honest  boys." 

"  Suppose  we  duck  him  before  he  goes,"  piped  out 
a  very  small  voice  : — ^the  doctor  grinned  significantly, 
and  left  the  school-room ;  and  the  boys  knew  by  this 
they  might  have  their  wUl.  They  seized  me,  and  car- 
ried me  to  the  play-ground  pump — they  pumped  upon 


SHOWERY.  31 

me  until  I  was  half  dead,  and  the  monster,  Stiffelkind, 
stood  looking  on  for  the  half-hour  the  operation  lasted. 
I  suppose  the  doctor,  at  last,  thought  I  had  had 
pumping  enough,  for  he  rung  the  school-bell,  and  the 
boys  were  obliged  to  leave  me^  as  I  got  out  of  the 
trough,  Stiflfelkind  was  alone  with  me.  "  Veil,  my 
lort,"  says  he,  "you  have  paid  something  for  dese 
boots,  but  not  all ;  by  Jubider,  you  shall  never  hear  de 
end  of  dem."     And  I  didn't. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


FOOLING. 


After  this,  as  you  may  fancy,  I  left  this  disgusting 
estabhshment,  and  hved  for  some  time  along  with  pa 
and  mamma  at  home.  My  education  was  finished,  at 
least  mamma  and  I  agreed  that  it  was  :  and  from  boy- 
hood until  hobbadyhoyhood  (which  I  take  to  be  about 
the  sixteenth  year  of  the  life  of  a  young  man,  and 
may  be  likened  to  the  month  of  April,  when  spring 
begins  to  bloom)  from  fourteen  until  seventeen,  I  say, 
I  remained  at  home,  doing  nothing,  for  which  I  have 
ever  since  had  a  great  taste,  the  idol  of  my  mamma, 
who  took  part  in  all  my  quarrels  with  father,  and  used 
regularly  to  rob  the  weekly  expenses  in  order  to  find 
me  in  pocket  money.     Poor  soul !  many  and  many  is 


if'OOtiN'G.  siS 

the  guinea  I  have  had  from  her  in  that  way ;  and  sO 
she  enabled  me  to  cut  a  very  pretty  figure. 

Papa  was  for  having  me  at  this  time  articled  to  a 
merchant,  or  put  to  some  profession  ;  but  mamma  and 
i  agreed  that  I  was  born  to  be  a  gentleman  and  not  a 
tradesman,  and  the  army  was  the  only  place  for  me. 
Every  body  was  a  soldier  in  those  times,  for  the 
French  war  had  just  begun,  and  the  whole  country 
was  swarming  with  militia  regiments.  "  We'll  get 
him  a  commission  in  a  marching  regiment,"  said  my 
father;  "as  we  have  no  money  to  purcliase  him  up> 
he'll  fight  liis  way,  I  make  no  doubt;" — and  papa 
looked  at  me,  with  a  kind  of  air  of  contempt,  as  much 
as  to  say  he  doubted  whether  I  should  be  very  eager 
for  such  a  dangerous  way  of  bettering  myself. 

I  wish  you  could  have  heard  mamma's  screech, 
when  ho  talked  so  coolly  of  my  going  out  to  fight. 
"  What,  send  him  abroad !  across  the  horrid,  horrid  sea 
— to  be  wrecked  and,  perhaps,  drowned,  and  only  to 
land  for  the  purpose  of  fighting  the  wicked  French- 
men,— to   1)6    wounded,  and    perhaps    kick — kick — 


34 


killed  !  O  Thomas  !  Thomas !  would  you  murder  me 
and  your  boy  ?"  There  was  a  regular  scene ; — how- 
ever it  ended — as  it  always  did — in  mother's  getting 
the  better,  and  it  was  settled  that  I  should  go  into  the 
militia.  And  why  not  ?  the  uniform  is  just  as  hand- 
some, and  the  danger  not  half  so  great.  I  don't  think 
in  the  course  of  my  whole  military  experience  I  ever 
fought  any  thing,  except  an  old  woman,  who  had  the 
impudence  to  hallo  out,  "  Heads  up,  lobster !"  Well, 
I  joined  the  North  Bungays,  and  was  fairly  launched 
into  the  world. 

I  was  not  a  handsome  man,  I  know  ;  but  there  was 
something  about  me — that's  very  evident — for  the  girls 
always  laughed  when  they  talked  to  me,  and  the  men, 
though  they  aiFected  to  call  me  a  poor  little  creature, 
squint-eyes,  knock-knees,  red-head,  and  so  on,  were 
evidently  annoyed  by  my  success,  for  they  hated  me 
so  confoundedly.  Even  at  the  present  time  they  go 
on,  though  I  have  given  up  gallivanting,  as  I  call  it. 
But  in  the  April  of  my  existence, — that  is,  in  Anno 
Domino  1791,  or  so — it  was  a  different  case ;  and  hav- 


FOOLING.  35 

ing  nothing  else  to  do,  and  being  bent  upon  bettering 
my  condition,  I  did  some  very  pretty  tilings  in  that 
way.  But  I  was  not  hot-headed  and  imprudent,  like 
most  young  fellows.  Don't  fancy  I  looked  for  beau- 
ty !  Pish ! — I  wasn't  such  a  fool.  Nor  for  temper ;  I 
don't  care  about  a  bad  temper :  I  could  break  any  wo- 
man's heart  in  two  years.  What  I  wanted  was  to  get 
on  in  the  world.  Of  course  I  didn't  frefer  an  ugly 
woman,  or  a  shrew ;  and,  when  the  choice  offered, 
would  certainly  put  up  with  a  handsome,  good-hu- 
mored girl,  with  plenty  of  money,  as  any  honest  man 
would. 

Now  there  were  two  tolerably  rich  girls  in  our 
parts :  Miss  Magdalen  Crutty,  with  twelve  thousand 
pounds  (and,  to  do  her  justice,  as  plain  a  girl  as  ever  I 
saw),  and  Miss  Mary  Waters,  a  fine,  tall,  plump,  smi- 
ling, peach-cheeked,  golden-haired,  wliite-skinned  lass, 
with  only  ten.  Mary  Waters  lived  with  her  uncle, 
the  Doctor,  who  had  helped  me  into  the  world,  and 
who  was  trusted  with  tliis  little  orphan  charge  very 
soon  after.     ]\Iy  mother,  as  you  have  heard,  was  so 


36  FOOLING. 

fond  of  Bates,  and  Bates  so  fond  of  little  Mary,  that 
both,  at  first,  were  almost  always"  in  our  house ;  and  I 
used  to  call  her  my  Httle  wife,  as  soon  as  I  could  speak, 
and  before  she  could  walk,  almost.  It  was  beautiful 
to  see  us,  the  neighbors  said. 

Well,  when  her  brother,  the  lieutenant  of  an  India 
ship,  came  to  be  captain,  and  actually  gave  Mary  five 
thousand  pounds,  when  she  was  about  ten  years  old, 
and  promised  her  five  tliousand  more,  there  was  a 
great  talking,  and  bobbing,  and  smiling  between  the 
Doctor  and  my  parents,  and  j\Iary  and  I  were  left  to- 
gether more  than  ever,  and  she  was  told  to  call  me 
her  httle  husband ;  and  she  did ;  and  it  was  considered 
-a  settled  tiling  from  that  day.  She  was,  really,  ama- 
zingly fond  of  me. 

Can  any  one  call  me  mercenary  after  that? 
Though  Miss  Crutty  had  twelve  thousand,  and  Mary 
only  ten  (five  in  hand,  and  five  in  the  bush),  I  stuck 
faithfully  to  Mary.  As  a  matter  of  course,  Miss 
Crutty  hated  Miss  Waters.  The  fact  was,  Mary  had 
^11  die  country  dangling  after  her,  and  not  a   soul 


37 


would  come  to  Magdalen,  for  all  her  £12,000.  I  used 
to  be  attentive  to  her,  though  (as  it's  always  useful  to 
be),  and  Mary  would  sometimes  laugh  and  sometimes 
cry  at  my  flirting  with  Magdalen.  Tliis  I  thought 
proper  very  quickly  to  check.  "  Mary,"  said  I,  "  you 
know  that  my  love  for  you  is  disinterested, — for  I  am 
faithful  to  you,  though  Miss  Crutty  is  richer  than  you. 
Don't  fly  into  a  rage,  then,  because  I  pay  her  atten- 
tions, when  you  know  that  my  heart  and  my  promise 
are  engaged  to  you." 

The  fact  is,  to  tell  a  Httle  bit  of  a  secret,  there  is 
nothing  like  the  having  two  strings  to  your  bow. 
"  Who  knows,"  thought  I,  "  Mary  may  die ;  and  then 
where  are  my  £10,000  '?"  So  I  used  to  be  very  kind 
indeed  to  Miss  Crutty  ;  and  well  it  was  that  I  was  so : 
for  when  I  was  twenty,  and  Mary  eighteen,  I'm  blest 
if  news  did  not  arrive  that  Captain  Waters,  who  was 
coming  home  to  England  with  all  his  money  in  rupees, 
had  been  taken — ship,  rupees,  self  and  aU — by  a 
French  privateer  !  and  Mary,  instead  of  £10,000,  had 
4 


38  FOOLINCi. 

only  £5,000,  making  a  diiFerence  of  no  less  than  £350 
per  annum  betwixt  her  and  Miss  Crutty. 

I  had  just  joined  my  regiment  (the  famous  North 
Bungay  Fencibles,  Colonel  Craw  commanding),  when 
this  news  reached  me ;  and  you  may  fancy  how  a 
young  man,  in  an  expensive  regiment  and  mess,  hav- 
ing uniforms  and  what  not  to  pay  for,  and  a  figure  to 
cut  in  the  world,  felt  at  hearing  such  news !  "  My 
dearest  Robert,"  wrote  ]\Iiss  Waters,  "  will  deplore 
my  dear  brother's  loss :  but  not,  I  am  sure,  the  money 
which  that  kind  and  generous  soul  had  promised  me. 
I  have  still  five  thousand  pounds,  and  with  this  and 
your  own  little  fortune  (I  had  £1000  in  the  five  per 
cents. !)  we  shall  be  as  happy  and  contented  as  possi- 
ble." 

Happy  and  contented,  indeed  !  Didn't  I  know  how 
my  father  got  on  with  his  £300  a  year,  and  how  it 
was  all  he  could  do  out  of  it  to  add  a  hundred  a  year 
to  my  narrow  income,  and  live  himself !  My  mind 
was  made  up.  I  instantly  mounted  the  coach,  and 
flew  to  our  village, — to  Mr.   Crutty's,  of  course.     It 


FOOLING.  39 

was  next  door  to  Doctor  Bates's  ;  but  I  had  no  busi- 
ness there. 

I  found  Magdalen  in  the  garden.  "  Heavens,  Mr. 
Stubbs !"  said  she,  as  in  my  new  uniform  I  appeared 
before  her,  "  I  really  did  never — such  a  handsome  offi- 
cer— expect  to  see  you;"  and  she  made  as  if  she 
would  blush,  and  began  to  tremble  \iolently.  I  led 
her  to  a  garden  seat.  I  seized  her  hand — it  was  not 
withdrawn.  I  pressed  it ; — I  thought  the  pressure 
was  returned.  I  flung  myself  on  my  knees,  and  then 
I  poured  into  her  ear  a  little  speech  which  I  had  made 
on  the  top  of  the  coach.  "  Divine  IMiss  Crutty,"  said 
I,  "  idol  of  my  soul !  It  was  but  to  catch  one  glimpse 
of  you  that  I  passed  through  this  garden.  I  never  in- 
tended to  breathe  the  secret  passion  (oh,  no  !  of  course 
not)  which  was  wearing  my  Ufe  away.  You  know 
my  unfortunate  pre-engagement, — it  is  broken,  and /or 
ever .'  I  am  free ; — free,  but  to  be  your  slave, — your 
humblest,  fondest,  truest  slave  :"  and  so  on. 

****** 

"  O,  Mr.  Stubbs,"  said  she,  as  I  imprinted  a  kiss 


40  FOOLING. 

upon  her  cheek,  "  I  can't  refuse  you  ;  but  I  fear  you 
are  a  sad,  naughty  man." 

****** 

Absorbed  in  the  delicious  reverie  which  was  caused 
by  the  dear  creature's  confusion,  we  were  both  silent 
for  a  while,  and  should  have  remained  so  for  hours, 
perhaps,  so  lost  were  we  in  happiness,  had  I  not  been 
suddenly  roused  by  a  voice  exclaiming  from  behind  us, 

"  Don't  cry,  Mary ;  he  is  a  swindling,  sneaking 
scoundrel,  and  you  are  well  rid  of  hhn  .'" 

I  turned  round  !  O,  Heaven !  there  stood  Mary, 
weeping  on  Doctor  Bates's  arm,  wliile  that  miserable 
apothecary  was  looking  at  me  with  the  utmost  scorn. 
The  gardener  who  had  let  me  in  had  told  them  of  my 
arrival,  and  •  now  stood  grinning  behind  them.  "  Im- 
perence !"  was  my  Magdalen's  only  exclamation,  as 
she  flounced  by  with  the  utmost  self-possession,  while 
I,  glancing  daggers  at  the  spies,  followed  her.  We 
retired  to  the  parlor,  where  she  repeated  to  me  the 
strongest  assurances  of  her  love. 

I  thought  I  was  a  made  man.  Alas  !  I  was  only 
an  APRIL  FOOL  ! 


CHAPTER  V. 


RESTORATION     DAY. 


As  the  month  of  May  is  considered,  by  poets  ana 
other  philosophers,  to  be  devoted  by  Nature  to  the 
great  purpose  of  love-making,  I  may  as  well  take  ad- 
vantage of  that  season  and  acquaint  you  with  the  re- 
sult of  my  amours. 

Young,  gay,  fascinating,  and  an  ensign — I  had 
completely  won  the  heart  of  my  Magdalen  ;  and  as  for 
Miss  Waters  and  her  nasty  uncle  the  Doctor,  there 
was  a  complete  split  between  us,  as  you  may  fancy  ; 
Miss,  pretending,  forsooth,  that  she  was  glad  I  had 
broken  off  the  match,  though  she  would  have  given 
her  eyes,  the  little  minx,  to  have  had  it  on  again.  But 
this  was  out  of  the  question.     My  father,  wlio  had  ali 


42  RESTORATION    DAV. 

sorts  of  qr.eer  notions,  said  I  had  acted  like  a  rascal  in 
the  business ;  my  mother  took  my  part,  in  course, 
and  declared  I  acted  rightly,  as  I  always  did  :  and  I 
got  leave  of  absence  from  the  regiment  in  order  to 
press  my  beloved  Magdalen  to  marry  me  out  of  hand 
— knowing,  from  reading  and  experience,  the  extraor- 
dinary mutability  of  human  affairs. 

Besides,  as  the  dear  girl  was  seventeen  years  older 
than  myself,  and  as  bad  in  health  as  she  was  in  temper, 
how  was  I  to  know  that  the  grim  king  of  terrors 
might  not  carry  her  off  before  she  became  mine  ?  With 
the  tenderest  warmth,  then,  and  most  delicate  ardor,  I 
continued  to  press  my  suit.  The  happy  day  was  fixed, 
the  ever  memorable  10th  of  May,  1792  ;  the  wedding 
clothes  were  ordered ;  and,  to  make  things  secure,  I 
penned  a  little  paragraph  for  the  county  paper  to  this 
effect : — "  Marriage  in  High  Life.  We  understand 
that  Ensign  Stubbs,  of  the  North  Bimgay  Fencibles, 
and  son  of  Thomas  Stubbs,  of  Sloffemsquiggle,  Es- 
quire, is  about  to  lead  to  the  hymeneal  altar  the  lovely 
and  accomplished  daughter  of  Solomon  Crutty,  Es- 


RESTORATION    DAY.  43 

quire,  of  the  same  place.  A  fortune  of  twenty  thou- 
sand pounds  is,  we  hear,  the  lady's  portion.  '  None 
but  the  brave  deserve  the  fair.'  " 

*  *  «  * 

"  Have  you  informed  your  relatives,  my  beloved," 
said  I  to  Magdalen  one  day  after  sending  the  above 
notice  ;  "  will  any  of  them  attend  at  your  marriage  ?" 

"  Uncle  Sam  will,  I  dare  say,"  said  Miss  Crutty, 
"  dear  mamma's  brother." 

"And  who  was  your  dear  mamma,"  said  I,  for 
Miss  Crutty's  respected  parent  had  been  long  since 
dead,  and  I  never  heard  her  name  mentioned  in  the 
family. 

Magdalen  blushed,  and  cast  down  her  eyes  to  the 
ground  :  "  Mamma  was  a  foreigner,"  at  last  she  said. 

"  And  of  what  country  ?" 

"  A  German ;  papa  married  her  when  she  was  very 
young : — she  was  not  of  a  very  good  family,"  said 
Miss  Crutty,  hesitating. 

"  And  what  care  I  for  family,  my  love,"  said  I,  ten- 
derly kissing  the  knuckles  of  the  hand  which  I  held, 


44  RESTORATION   DAY. 

"  she  must  have  been  an  angel  who  gave  birth  to 
you." 

"  She  was  a  shoemaker's  daughter." 

A  German  shoemaker !  hang  'em,  thought  I,  I  have 
had  enough  of  them,  and  so  I  broke  up  this  conversa- 
tion, which  did  not  somehow  please  me. 

Well,  the  day  was  drawing  near  :  the  clothes  were 
ordered  ;  the  banns  were  read.  My  dear  mamma  had 
built  a  cake  about  the  size  of  a  washing-tub :  and  I 
was  only  waiting  for  a  week  to  pass  to  put  me  in  pos- 
session of  twelve  thousand  pounds  in  the  five  per 
cents.,  as  they  were  in  those  days.  Heaven  bless  'em ! 
Little  did  I  know  the  storm  that  was  brewing,  and  the 
disappointment  which  was  to  fall  upon  a  young  man 

who  really  did  his  best  to  get  a  fortune. 

****** 

"  O  Robert !"  said  my  Magdalen  to  me,  two  days 
before  the  match  was  to  come  off,  "  I  have  such  a  kind 
letter  from  uncle  Sam,  in  London.  I  wTote  to  him  as 
you  wished.     He  says  that  he  is  coming  down  to-mor- 


RESTORATION    DAY.  46 

row ;  that  he  has  heard  of  you  often,  and  knows  your 
character  very  well,  and  that  he  has  got  a  very  hand- 
some present  for  us  !     What  can  it  be,  I  wonder  ?" 

"  Is  he  rich,  my  soul's  adored  ?"  says  I. 

"  He  is  a  bachelor  with  a  fine  trade,  and  nobody  to 
leave  his  money  to." 

"His  present  can't  be  less  than  a  thousand  pounds," 
says  I. 

"  Or,  perhaps,  a  silver  tea-set,  and  some  comer 
dishes,"  says  she. 

But  we  could  not  agree  to  this,  it  was  too  little — 
too  mean  for  a  man  of  her  uncle's  wealth :  and  we 
both  determined  it  must  be  the  thousand  pounds. 

"  Dear,  good  uncle  !  he's  to  be  here  by  the  coach," 
says  Magdalen.  "  Let  us  ask  a  little  party  to  meet 
him."  And  so  we  did,  and  so  they  came.  My  father 
and  mother,  old  Crutty  in  his  best  wig,  and  the  parson 
who  was  to  marry  us  next  day.  The  coach  was  to 
come  in  at  six.  And  there  was  the  tea-table,  and  there 
was  the  punch-bowl,  and  every  body  ready  and  smiling 
to  receive  our  dear  uncle  from  London. 


46  RESTORATION    DAY. 

Six  o'clock  came,  and  the  coach,  and  the  man  from 
the  Green  Dragon  with  a  portmanteau,  and  a  fat  old 
gentleman  walking  behind,  of  whom  I  just  caught  a 
glimpse — a  venerable    old   gentleman — I   thought  I'd 

seen  him  before. 

*  *  *  * 

Then  there  was  a  ring  at  the  bell ;  then  a  scuffling 
and  bumping  at  the  passage  :  then  old  Crutty  rushed 
out,  and  a  great  laughing  and  talking,  and  "  How  are 
you"  and  so  on,  was  heard  at  the  door ;  and  then  the 
parlor-door  was  flung  open,  and  Crutty  rushed  out 
with  a  loud  voice  : — 

"  Good  people  all !  my  brother-in-law,  Mr.  STIF- 
FELKIND  !" 

Mr.  Stiffklkind! — I  trembled  as  I  heard  the  name  ! 

j\Dss  Crutty  kissed  him ;  mamma  made  him  a  curt- 
sey, and  papa  made  him  a  bow ;  and  Dr.  Snorter,  the 
parson,  seized  his  hand  and  shook  it  most  warmly — 
then  came  my  turn  ! 

"Vat,"  says  he,  "it  is  my  dear  goot  yong  frend 
from  Doctor  Schvis'hentail's !  is  dis  the  yong  gentle- 


RESTORATION    DAY.  47 

man's  lionorable  moder  (mamma  smiled  and  made  a 
curtsey) ,  and  dis  liis  fader !  Sare  and  madam,  you 
should  be  broud  of  soch  a  sonn.  And  you,  my  niece, 
if  you  have  him  for  a  husband  you  vil  be  locky,  dat  is 
all.  Vat  dink  you,  brodder  Crotty,  and  Madame  Stobbs, 
I ave  made  your  sonn's  boots,  ha!  ha!" 

My  mamma  laughed,  and  said,  "  I  did  not  know  it, 
but  I  am  sure,  sir,  he  has  as  pretty  a  leg  for  a  boot  as 
any  in  the  whole  country." 

Old  Stiffelkind  roared  loiider.  "  A  very  nice  leg, 
ma'am,  and  a  very  sheap  boot  too !  Vat,  you  did  not 
know  I  make  his  boots !  Perhaps  you  did  not  know 
someting  else  too — p'raps  you  did  not  know  (and  here 
the  monster  clapped  his  hand  on  the  table,  and  made 
the  punch-ladle  tremble  in  the  bowl)  p'raps  you  did 
not  know  as  dat  yong  man,  dat  Stobbs,  dat  sneaking, 
baltry,  squinting  fellow,  is  as  vicked  as  he  is  ogly.  He 
bot  a  pair  of  boots  from  me  and  never  paid  for  dem. 
Dat  is  noting,  nobody  never  pays,  but  he  bought  a 
pair  of  boots,  and  called  himself  Lord  Cornvallis.  And 
I  was  fool  enough  to  believe  him  voncc.     But  look 


48  RESTORATION    DAY. 

you,  niece  Magdalen,  I  have  got  five  tousand  pounds, 
if  you  marry  him  I  vil  not  give  you  a  benny ;  but  look 
you,  what  I  will  gif  you,  I  bromised  you  a  bresent, 
and  I  will  give  you  dese  !" 

And  the  old  monster  produced  those  very  boots 
which  Swishtail  had  made  him  take  back. 

I  didnh  marry  IMiss  Crutty ;  I  am  not  sorry  for  it 
though.  She  was  a  nasty,  ugly,  ill-tempered  wretch, 
and  I've  always  said  so  ever  since. 

And  all  this  arose  from  those  infernal  boots,  and 
that  unlucky  paragraph  in  the  county  paper — I'll  tell 
you  how. 

In  the  first  place,  it  was  taken  up  as  a  quiz  by  one 
of  the  wicked,  profligate,  unprincipled  organs  of  the 
London  press,  who  chose  to  be  very  facetious  about 
the  "  Marriage  in  High  Life,"  and  made  all  sorts  of 
jokes  about  me  and  my  dear  Miss  Crutty. 

Secondly  it  was  read  in  this  London  paper  by  my 
mortal  enemy,  Bunting,  who  had  been  introduced  to 
old  Stiffelkind's  acquaintance  by  my  adventure  with 


RESTORATION    DA?.  49 

him,  and  had  his  shoes  made  regularly  by  that  foreign 
upstart. 

Thirdly,  he  happened  to  want  a  pair  of  shoes  mend- 
ed at  tliis  particular  period,  and  as  he  was  measured  by 
the  disgusting  old  High-Dutch  Cobbler,  he  told  him 
his  old  friend  Stubbs  was  going  to  be  married. 

"  And  to  whom  ?"  said  old  Stiffelkind,  "to  a  voman 
wit  gelt,  I  vil  take  my  oath." 

"  Yes,"  says  Bunting, "  a  country  girl — a  Miss 
Magdalen  Carrotty  or  Crotty,  at  a  place  called  Sloff- 
emsqulggle." 

"  Schloffhnscliwiegel .'"  bursts  out  the  dreadful  boot- 
maker, "  Mein  Gott,  raein  Gott !  das  geht  nicht — I  tell 
you,  sare,  it  is  no  go.  Miss  Crotty  is  my  niece.  I  vill 
go  down  myself.  I  vill  never  let  her  marry  dat  goot- 
for-noting  schwindler  and  tief."  Such  was  the  language 
that  the  scoundrel  ventured  to  use  regarding  me  ! 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MARROWBONES  AND   CLEAVERS. 

Was  there  ever  such  confounded  ill  luck  ?  My 
whole  life  has  been  a  tissue  of  ill  luck :  although  I 
have  labored,  perhaps,  harder  than  any  man  to  make 
a  fortune,  something  always  timibled  it  down.  In  love 
and  in  war  I  was  not  like  others.  In  my  marriages,  I 
had  an  eye  to  the  main  chance :  and  you  see  how 
some  unlucky  blow  would  come  and  throw  them  over. 
In  the  army  I  was  just  as  prudent,  and  just  as  unfor- 
tunate. What  with  judicious  betting,  and  horse-swap- 
ping, good  luck  at  billiards,  and  economy,  I  do  believe  I 
put  by  my  pay  every  year, — and  that  is  what  few  can 
say,  who  have  but  an  allowance  of  a  hundred  a  year. 

I'll  tell  you  how  it  was.     I  used  to  be  very  kind  to 
the  young  men ;  I  chose  their  horses  for  them,  and 


WAilKOWBONES    AND    CLEAVERS.  61 

their  wine,  and  showed  them  how  to  play  billiards,  or 
ecarte,  of  long  mornings,  when  there  was  notliing 
better  to  do.  I  didn't  cheat :  I'd  rather  die  than  cheat ; 
— but  if  fellows  toill  play,  I  wasn't  the  man  to  say 
no — why  should  I  ?  There  was  one  young  chap  in 
our  regiment  of  whom  I  really  think  I  cleared  £300 
a  year. 

His  name  was  Dobble.  He  was  a  tailor's  son,  and 
wanted  to  be  a  gentleman.  A  poor,  weak,  young 
creature  ;  easy  to  be  made  tipsy ;  easy  to  be  cheated ; 
and  easy  to  be  frightened.  It  was  a  blessing  for  liim 
that  I  found  him ;  for  if  any  body  else  had,  they  would 
have  plucked  him  of  every  shilling. 

Ensign  Dobble  and  I  were  sworn  friends.  I  rode 
his  horse  for  him,  and  chose  his  champagne  ;  and  did 
every  thing,  in  fact,  that  a  superior  mind  does  for  an 
inferior, — when  the  mferior  has  got  the  money.  We 
were  inseparables, — hunting  every  where  in  couples. 

We  even  managed  to  full  in  love  with  two  sisters, 
as  young  soldiers  will  do,  you  know ;  for  the  dogs  fall 
in  love,  with  every  change  of  quarters. 


62  MARROWBONES    AND    CLEAVERS. 

Well;  once,  in  the  year  1793  (it  was  just  when 
the  French  had  chopped  poor  Louis's  head  off),  Dobble 
and  I,  gay  young  chaps  as  ever  wore  sword  by  side, 
had  cast  our  eyes  upon  two  young  ladies,  by  the  name 
of  Brisket,  daughters  of  a  butcher  in  the  town  where 
we  were  quartered.  The  dear  girls  fell  in  love  with 
us,  of  course.  And  many  a  pleasant  walk  in  the 
country  ;  many  a  treat  to  a  tea-garden ;  many  a  smart 
ribbon  and  brooch  used  Dobble  and  I  (for  his  father 
allowed  him  £600,  and  our  purses  were  in  common) 
present  to  these  young  ladies.  One  day,  fancy  our 
pleasure  at  receiving  a  note  couched  thus : — 

"  Deer  Capting  Stubbs  and  Dobble — Miss  Briskets 
presents  tlieir  compliments,  and  as  it  is  probble  that 
our  papa  will  be  till  12  at  the  corprayshun  dinner,  we 
request  the  pleasure  of  their  company  to  tea." 

Didn't  we  go  !  Punctually  at  six  we  were  in  the 
little  back  parlor ;  we  quaffed  more  Bohea,  and  made 
more  love,  than  half-a-dozen  ordinary  men  could.  At 
nine,  a  little  punch-bowl  succeeded  to  the  little  tea- 
pot ;  and  bless  the  girls  !  a  nice  fresh  steak  was  friz  - 


MARROWBONES   AND   CLEAVERS.  63 

zling  on  the  gridiron  for  our  supper.  Butchers  were 
butchers  then,  and  their  parlor  was  their  kitchen, 
too ;  at  least  old  Brisket's  was. — One  door  leading  into 
the  shop,  and  one  into  the  yard,  on  the  other  side  of 
which  was  the  slaughter-house. 

Fancy,  then,  our  horror  when,  just  at  this  critical 
time,  we  heard  the  shop  door  open,  a  heavy  staggering 
step  on  the  flags,  and  a  loud  husky  voice  from  the  shop, 
shouting, "  Hallo,  Susan  ;  hallo,  Betsey  !  show  a  light !" 
Dobble  turned  as  wliite  as  a  sheet ;  the  two  girls  each 
as  red  as  a  lobster ;  I  alone  preserved  my  presence  of 
mind.  "  The  back  door,"  says  I. — "'The  dog's  in  the 
court,"  says  they.  "  He's  not  so  bad  as  the  mall," 
says  I.  "  Stop,"  cries  Susan,  flinging  open  the  door, 
and  rushing  to  the  fire  :  "  take  this,  and  perhaps  it  wil 
quiet  him." 

What  do  you  think  "  this"  was  ?  I'm  blest  if  it  was 
not  the  steak ! 

She  pushed  us  out,  patted  and  hushed  the  dog,  and 
was  in  again  in  a  minute.  The  moon  was  shining  on 
the  court,  and  on  the  slaughter-house,  where  there 
5 


64  MARROWBONES   AND   CLEAVERS. 

hung  a  couple  of  white,  ghastly-looking,  carcasses  of  a 
couple  of  sheep ;  a  great  gutter  ran  down  the  court 
— a  gutter  of  blood! — the  dog  was  devouring  his  beef- 
steak (our  beef-steak)  in  silence, — and  we  could  see 
through  the  little  window  the  girls  bustling  about  to 
pack  up  the  supper-things,  and  presently  the  shop-door 
opened,  old  Brisket  entered,  staggering,  angry,  and 
drunk.  What's  more,  we  could  see,  perched  on  a  high 
stool,  and  nodding  politely,  as  if  to  salute  old  Brisket, 
the  feather  of  Dohlle's  cocked  hat !  When  Dobble 
saw  it  he  turned  white,  and  deadly  sick ;  and  the  poor 
fellow,  in  an  agony  of  fright,  sunk  shivering  down 
upon  one  of  the  butcher's  cutting  blocks,  which  was 
in  the  yard. 

We  saw  old  Brisket  look  steadily  (as  steadily  as 
he  could)  at  the  confounded  impudent,  pert,  waggling 
feather;  and  then  an  idea  began  to  draw  upon  his 
mind,  that  there  was  a  head  to  the  hat ;  and  then  he 
slowly  rose  up — he  was  a  man  of  six  feet,  and  fifteen 
stone — he  rose  up,  put  on  his  apron  and  sleeves,  and 
took  down  his  cleaver. 


MARROWBONES   AND   CLEAVERS.  56 

"  Betsey,"  says  he,  "  open  the  yard  door."  But  tlie 
girls  screamed,  and  flung  on  their  knees,  and  begged, 
and  wept,  and  did  .their  very  best  to  prevent  him. 
"  OPEN  THE  YARD  DOOR,"  says  he,  with  a  thun- 
dering loud  voice ;  and  the  great  bull-dog,  hearing  it, 
started  up,  and  uttered  a  yell  which  sent  me  flying  to 
the  other  end  of  the  court. — Dobble  couldn't  move  ;  he 
was  sitting  on  the  block,  blubbering  Hke  a  baby. 

The  door  opened,  and  out  Mr.  Brisket  came. 

"  To  Mm,  Jowler,"  says  he,  "  keep  hi??!,  Jowler," 
— and  the  horrid  dog  flew  at  me,  and  I  flew  back  into 
the  corner,  and  drew  my  sword,  determining  to  sell 
my  life  dearly. 

"  That's  it,"  says  Brisket,  "  keep  him  there, — good 
dog, — good  dog !  And  now,  sir,"  says  he,  turning 
around  to  Dobble,  "  is  this  your  hat  ?" 

"  Yes,"  says  Dobble,  fit  to  choke  with  fright. 

"  Well,  then,"  says  Brisket,  "  it's  my — (hick) — my 
painful  duty  to — (hick) — to  tell  you,  that  as  I've  got 
your  hat,  I  must  have  your  licad  ; — it's  painful,  but  it 
must  be  done.     You'd  better — (hick) — settle  yourself 


56  MARROWBONES   AND   CLEAVERS. 

com — comfumarably  against  that — (hick) — that  block, 
and  I'll  chop  it  off  before  you  can  say^  Jack — (hick) 
— no,  I  mean  Jack  Robinson." 

Dobble  went  down  on  his  knees,  and  shrieked  out, 
"  I'm  an  only  son,  Mr.  Brisket  !  I'll  marry  her,  sir ; 
I  will,  upon  my  honor,  sir. — Consider  my  mother,  sir ; 
consider  my  mother." 

"  That's  it,  sir,"  says  Brisket — "  that's  a  good — 
(hick) — a  good  boy  ; — ^jiist  put  your  head  down  quietly 
— and  I'll  have  it  off — yes,  off— as  if  you  were  Louis 
the  Six — the  Sixtix — the  Sixtickleteenth. — I'll  chop 
the  other  chap  afterii-ards." 

When  I  heard  this,  I  made  a  sudden  bound  back, 
and  gave  such  a  cry  as  any  man  might  who  was  in 
such  a  way.  The  ferocious  Jowler,  thinking  I  was 
going  to  escape,  flew  at  ni}'  throat ;  screaming  furious, 
I  flung  out  my  arms  in  a  kind  of  desperation, — and,  to 
my  wonder,  down  fell  the  dog,  dead,  and  run  through 
the  body  ! 

*  *  *  * 

At  this  moment  a  posse  of  people  rushed  in  upon 


MARROWBONES   AND   CLEAVERS.  67 

old  Brisket, — one  of  his  daughters  had  had  the  sense 
to  summon  them, — and  Dobble's  head  was  saved.  And 
when  they  saw  the  dog  lying  dead  at  my  feet,  my 
ghastly  look,  my  bloody  sword,  they  gave  me  no  small 
credit  for  my  bravery.  "  A  terrible  fellow  that  Stubbs," 
said  they  ;  and  so  the  mess  said,  the  next  day. 

I  didn't  tell  them  that  the  dog  had  committed  sui- 
cide— why  should  I  ?  And  I  didn't  say  a  word  about 
Dobble's  cowardice.  I  said  he  was  a  brave  fellow,  and 
fought  like  a  tiger ;  and  this  prevented  him  from  telhng 
tales.  I  had  the  dog-skin  made  into  a  pair  of  pistol- 
holsters,  and  looked  so  fierce,  and  got  such  a  name  for 
courage  in  our  regiment,  that  when  we  had  to  meet 
the  regulars.  Bob  Stubbs  was  always  the  man  put 
forward  to  support  the  honor  of  the  corps.  The  wo- 
men, you  know,  adore  courage  ;  and  such  was  my 
reputation  at  this  time,  that  I  might  have  had  my  pick 
out  of  half-a-dozen,  with  three,  four,  or  five  thousand 
pounds  a-piece,  who  were  dying  for  love  of  me  and 
my  red  coat.  But  I  wasn't  such  a  fool.  I  had  been 
twice  on  the  point  of  marriage,  and  twice  disappointed  ; 


68  MARROWBONES    AND    CLEAVERS. 

and  I  vowed  by  all  the  Saints  to  have  a  wife,  and  a 
rich  one.  Depend  upon  this,  as  an  infallible  maxim  to 
guide  you  through  life — ICs  as  easy  to  get  a  rich  wife 
as  a  poor  one ; — the  same  bait  that  will  hook  a  fly  will 
hook  a  salmon. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SUMMERY     PROCEEDINGS. 

Dobble's  reputation  for  courage  was  not  increased 
by  the  butcher's-dog  adventure ;  but  mine  stood  very 
liigh :  little  Stubbs  w^as  voted  the  boldest  chap  of  all 
the  bold  North-Bungays.  And  though  I  must  confess, 
what  was  proved  by  subsequent  circumstances,  that 
Nature  has  not  endowed  me  with  a  large,  or  even,  I 
may  say,  an  average  share  of  bravery,  yet  a  man  is 
very  willing  to  flatter  himself  of  the  contrary ;  and, 
after  a  little  time,  I  got  to  believe  that  ray  killing  the 
dog  was  an  action  of  undaunted  courage  ;  and  that  I 
was  as  gallant  as  any  one  of  the  hundred  thousand 
heroes  of  our  army.     I  always  had  a  military  taste — it's 


60  SUMMERY   PROCEEDINGS. 

only  the  brutal  part  of  the  profession,  the  horrid  fight- 
ing, and  blood,  that  I  don't  like. 

I  suppose  the  regiment  was  not  very  brave  itself 
— being  only  militia ;  but,  certain  it  was,  that  Stubbs 
was  considered  a  most  terrible  fellow,  and  I  swore  so 
much,  and  looked  so  fierce,  that  you  would  have  fan- 
cied I  had  made  half  a  hundred  campaigns.  I  was 
second  in  several  duels ;  the  lunpire  in  all  disputes ;  and 
such  a  crack-shot  myself,  that  fellows  were  shy  of 
insulting  me.  As  for  Dobble,  I  took  him  under  my 
protection  ;  and  he  became  so  attached  to  me  that  we 
ate,  drank,  and  rode  together,  every  day ;  his  father 
didn't  care  for  money,  so  long  as  his  son  was  in  good 
company — and  what  so  good  as  that  of  the  celebrated 
Stubbs  ?  Heigho !  I  was  good  company  in  those  days, 
and  a  brave  fellow,  too,  as  I  should  have  remained,  but 
for — what  I  shall  tell  the  public  immediately. 

It  happened,  in  the  fatal  year  ninety-six,  that  the 
brave  North  Bungays  were  quartered  at  Portsmouth  ; 
a  maritime  place,  which  I  need  not  describe  and  which 
I  wish  I  had  never  seen.  I  might  have  been  a  General 
now,  or,  at  least,  a  rich  man. 


SUMMERY   PROCEEDINGS.  61 

The  red-coats  carried  every  thing  before  them  in 
those  days ;  and  I,  such  a  crack  cliaracter  as  I  was  in 
my  regiment,  was  very  well  received  by  the  towns- 
people ;  many  dinners  I  had ;  many  tea-parties  ;  many 
lovely  young  ladies  did  I  lead  down  the  pleasant  coun- 
try-dances. 

Well,  although  I  had  had  the  two  former  rebuffs 
in  love,  which  I  have  described,  my  heart  was  still 
young ;  and  the  fact  was,  knowing  that  a  girl  with  a 
fortune  was  my  only  chance,  I  made  love  here  as  fu- 
riously as  ever.  I  sha'n't  describe  the  lovely  creatures 
on  whom  I  fixed,  whilst  at  Portsmouth.  I  tried  more 
than — several — and  it  is  a  singular  fact,  which  I  never 
have  been  able  to  account  for,  that,  successful  as  I 
was  with  ladies  of  maturer  age,  by  the  young  ones  I 
was  refused  regular. 

But  "  faint  heart  never  one  fair  lady  ;"  and  so  I 
went  on,  and  on,  until  I  had  really  got  a  Miss  Clopper, 
a  tolerably  rich  navy-contractor's  daughter,  into  such 
a  way,  that  I  really  don't  think  she  could  have  refused 
me.     Her  brother.  Captain  Clopper,  was  in  a  line  regi- 


62  SUMBIERY   PROCEEDINGS. 

ment,  and  helped  me  as  much  as  evei*  he  could ;  he 
swore  I  was  such  a  brave  fellow. 

As  I  had  received  a  number  of  attentions  from 
Clopper,  I  determined  to  invite  him  to  dinner ;  which  I 
could  do  without  any  sacrifice  of  my  principle,  upon 
this  point ;  for  the  fact  is,  Dobble  lived  at  an  inn — and 
as  he  sent  aU  his  biUs  to  his  father,  I  made  no  scruple 
to  use  liis  table.  We  dined  in  the  coffee-room ;  Dobble 
bringing  liis  friend,  and  so  we  made  a  party  carry,  as 
the  French  say.  Some  naval  officers  were  occupied 
in  a  similar  way,  at  a  table  next  to  ours. 

Well — I  didn't  spare  the  bottle,  either  for  myself  or 
my  friends ;  and  we  grew  very  talkative,  and  very 
affectionate  as  the  drinking  went  on.  Each  man  told 
stories  of  his  gallantry  in  the  field,  or  amongst  the 
ladies,  as  officers  will,  after  dinner.  Clopper  confided 
to  the  company  his  wish  that  I  should  marry  his  sister, 
and  vowed  that  he  thought  me  the  best  fellow  in  Chris- 
tendom. 

Ensign  Dobble  assented  to  this — ^"But  let  Miss 
Clopper  beware,"  says  he,  "  for  Stubbs  is  a  sad  fellow  ; 


SUMMERY   PROCEEDINGS.  63 

he  has  had,  I  don't  know  how  many  lias&ns  ah-eady ; 
and  he  has  been  engaged  to  I  don't  know  how  many 
women." 

"  Indeed  !"  says  Clopper ;  "  Come,  Stubbs,  tell  us 
your  adventures." 

"  Psha !"  said  I,  modestly,  "  there  is  nothing,  in- 
deed, to  tell ;  I  have  been  in  love,  my  dear  boy — who 
has  not  ? — and  I  have  been  jilted — who  has  not  ?" 

Clopper  swore  that  he  would  blow  his  sister's 
brains  out  if  ever  she  served  me  so. 

"  Tell  him  about  Miss  Crutty,"  said  Dobble  ;  "  he ! 
he  !  Stubbs  served  thai  woman  out,  any  how ;  she  didn't 
jilt  him,  I'll  be  sworn." 

"  Really,  Dobble,  you  are  too  bad,  and  should  not 
mention  names  ;  the  fact  is,  the  girl  was  desperately  in 
love  with  me,  and  had  money — sixty  thousand  pounds, 
upon  my  reputation.  Well,  every  thing  was  arranged, 
when,  who  should  come  down  from  London,  but  a 
relation." 

"  Well ;  and  did  he  prevent  the  match  ?" 

"  Prevent  it — yes,  sir,  I  believe  you,  he  did ;  though 


64  SUMMERY   PROCEEDINGS. 

not  in  the  sense  that  you  mean ;  he  would  have  given 
his  eyes ;  ay,  and  ten  thousand  pounds  more,  if  I 
would  have  accepted  the  girl,  but  I  would  not." 

"  Why,  in  the  name  of  goodness  ?" 

"  Sir,  her  uncle  was  a  shoemaker.  I  never  would 
debase  myself  by  marrying  into  such  a  family." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Dobble,  "  he  couldn't,  you 
know.  Well,  now — tell  him  about  the  other  girl, 
Mary  Waters,  you  know." 

"  Hush,  Dobble,  hush  !  don't  you  see  one  of  those 
naval  officers  has  turned  round  and  heard  you.  My 
dear  Clopper,  it  was  a  mere  childish  bagatelle." 

"  Well,  but  let's  have  it,"  said  Clopper,  "  let's  have 
it ;  I  won't  tell  my  sister,  you  know ;"  and  he  put  his 
hand  to  his  nose,  and  looked  monstrous  wise. 

"  Nothing  of  that  sort,  Clopper — no,  no — 'pon 
honor — little  Bob  Stubbs  is  no  libertine ;  and  the  story 
is  very  simple.  You  see  that  my  father  has  a  small 
place,  merely  a  few  hundred  acres,  at  SlofFemsquig- 
gle  :  Isn't  it  a  funny  name  ?  Hang  it,  tliere's  the  na- 
val gentleman  staring  again, — (I  looked  terribly  fierce 


SUMMERY    PROCEEDINGS.  65 

as  I  returned  this  officer's  stare,  and  continued  in  a 
loud  careless  voice)  well — at  this  Sloffemsquiggle 
there  lived  a  girl,  a  Miss  Waters,  the  niece  of  some 
blackguard  apothecary  in  the  neighborhood ;  but  my 
mother  took  a  fancy  to  the  girl,  and  had  her  up  to  the 
park,  and  petted  her.  We  were  both  young — and — 
and — the  girl  fell  in  love  with  me,  that's  the  fact.  I 
was  obhged  to  repel  some  rather  warm  advances  that 
she  made  me ;  and  here,  upon  my  honor  as  a  gentle- 
man, you  have  all  the  story  about  which  that  silly 
Dobble  made  such  a  noise." 

Just  as  I  finished  this  sentence,  I  found  myself 
suddenly  taken  by  the  nose,  and  a  voice  shouting  out, 

"  Mr.  Stubbs,  you  are  a  Liar  and  a  Scoundrel  ! 
take  this,  sir, — and  this,  for  daring  to  meddle  with  the 
name  of  an  innocent  lady." 

I  turned  round  as  well  as  I  covdd,  for  the  ruffian 
had  pulled  me  out  of  my  chair,  and  beheld  a  great  ma- 
rine monster,  six  feet  high,  who  was  occupied  in  beat- 
ing and  kicking  me,  in  the  most  ungentlemanly  man- 
ner, on  my  cheeks,  my  ribs,  and  between  the  tails  of 


66  SUMMERY   PROCEEDINGS. 

my  coat.  "  He  is  a  liar,  gentleman,  and  a  scoundrel ; 
tlie  bootmaker  had  detected  him  in  swindling,  and  so 
his  niece  refused  liim.  Miss  Waters  was  engaged  to 
him  from  childhood,  and  he  deserted  her  for  the  boot- 
maker's niece,  who  was  richer ;" — and  then  sticking  a 
card  between  my  stock  and  my  coat-collar,  in  what  is 
called  the  scruff  of  my  neck,  the  disgusting  brute  gave 
me  another  blow  behind  my  back,  and  left  the  coffee- 
room  with  his  friends. 

Dobble  raised  me  up ;  and  taking  the  card  from  my 
neck,  read,  CAPTAIN  WATERS.  Clopper  poured 
me  out  a  glass  of  water,  and  said  in  my  ear,  "  If  this 
is  true,  you  are  an  infernal  scoundrel,  Stubbs ;  and 
must  fight  me,  after  Captain  Waters,"  and  he  flounced 
exit  of  the  room. 

I  had  but  one  course  to  pursue.  I  sent  the  Cap- 
tain a  short  and  contemptuous  note,  saying,  that  he 
was  beneath  my  anger.  As  for  Clopper,  I  did  not 
condescend  to  notice  his  remark — but  in  order  to  get 
rid  of  the  troublesome  society  of  these  low  black- 
guards, I  determined  to  gratify  an  inclination  I  had 


SUMMERY   PROCEEDINGS.  67 

long  entertained,  and  make  a  little  tour.  I  applied  for 
leave  of  absence,  and  set  off  that  very  night.  I  can 
fancy  the  disappointment  of  the  brutal  Waters,  on 
coming,  as  he  did,  the  next  morning,  to  my  quarters, 
and  finding  me  goiie,  ha !  ha ! 

After  tliis  adventure  I  became  sick  of  a  military 
life — at  least  the  life  of  my  own  regiment,  vi^here  the 
officers,  such  was  their  unaccountable  meanness  and 
prejudice  against  me,  absolutely  refused  to  see  me  at 
mess.  Colonel  Craw  sent  me  a  letter  to  this  effect, 
which  I  treated  as  it  deserved. — I  never  once  alluded 
to  it  in  any  way,  and  have  since  never  spoken  a  single 
word  to  any  man  in  the  North  Bungays. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

DOGS  HAVE  THEIR  DAYS. 

See,  now,  what  life  is ;  I  have  had  ill-luck  on  ill-luck 
from  that  day  to  this.  I  have  sunk  in  the  world,  and, 
instead  of  riding  my  horse  and  drinking  my  wine,  as  a 
real  gentleman  should,  have  hardly  enough  now  to 
buy  a  pint  of  ale  ;  ay,  and  am  very  glad  when  any 
body  will  treat  me  to  one.  Why,  why  was  I  born  to 
undergo  such  unmerited  misfortunes  ? 

You  must  know  that  very  soon  after  my  adventure 
with  Miss  Crutty,  and  that  cowardly  ruffian  Captain 
Waters  (he  sailed  the  day  after  his  insult  to  me  or  I 
should  most  certainly  have  blown  his  brains  out ;  noio 
he  is  living  in  England,  and  is  my  relation ;  but,  of 
course,  I  cut  the  fellow).  Very  soon  after  these  pain- 
ful events  another  happened,  which  ended,  too,  in  a 


DOGS   HAVE    THEIR  DATS.  69 

sad  disappointment.  My  dear  papa  died,  and,  instead 
of  leaving  five  thousand  pounds  as  I  expected,  at  the 
very  least,  left  only  his  estate,  which  was  worth  but 
two.  The  land  and  house  were  left  to  me ;  to  mamma 
and  my  sisters  he  left,  to  be  sure,  a  sum  of  two  thou- 
sand pounds  in  the  hands  of  that  eminent  firm  Messrs. 
Pump,  Aldgate,  and  Co.,  which  failed  within  six  months 
after  his  demise  ;  and  paid  in  five  years  about  one  shil- 
ling and  ninepence  in  the  pound  ;  which  really  was  all 
my  dear  mother  and  sisters  had  to  live  upon. 

The  poor  creatures  were  quite  unused  to  money 
matters ;  and,  would  you  believe  it  ?  when  the  news 
came  of  Pump  and  Aldgate's  failure,  mamma  only 
smiled,  and  threw  her  eyes  up  to  Heaven,  and  said, 
"  Blessed  be  God,  that  we  have  still  wherewithal  to 
live ;  there  are  tens  of  thousands  in  this  world,  dear 
children,  who  would  count  our  poverty,  riches."  And 
with  this  she  kissed  my  two  sisters,  who  began  to 
blubber,  as  girls  always  will  do,  and  threw  their  arms 
round  her  neck,  and  then  round  my  neck,  until  I 
6 


70  DOGS   HAVE    THEIR   DAYS. 

was  half  stifled  with  their  embraces,  and  slobbered  all 
over  with  their  tears. 

"  Dearest  mamma,"  said  I,  "  I  am  very  glad  to  see 
the  noble  manner  in  which  you  bear  your  loss ;  and 
more  still  to  know  that  you  are  so  rich  as  to  be  able  to 
put  up  with  it."  The  fact  was,  I  really  thought  the 
old  lady  had  got  a  private  hoard  of  her  own,  as  many 
of  them  have — a  thousand  pounds  or  so  in  a  stocking. 
Had  she  put  by  thirty  pounds  a  year,  as  well  she 
might,  for  the  thirty  years  of  her  marriage,  there 
would  have  been  nine  hundred  pounds  clear,  and  no 
mistake.  But  still  I  was  angry  to  think  that  any  such 
paltry  concealment  had  been  practised — concealment 
too  of  rmj  money ;  so  I  turned  on  her  pretty  sharply, 
and  continued  my  speech.  "  You  say,  ma'am,  that 
you  are  rich,  and  that  Pump  and  Aldgate's  failure  has 
no  effect  upon  you.  I  am  very  happy  to  hear  you  say 
so,  ma'am — very  happy  tliat  you  are  rich ;  and  I  should 
like  to  know  where  your  property,  my  father's  prop- 
erty, for  you  had  none  of  your  own, — T  should  like  to 
know  where  this  money  lies — where  you  have  concealed 


DOGS   HAVE   THEIR   DAYS.  71 

it,  ma'am,  and,  permit  me  to  say,  that  when  I  agreed 
to  board  you  and  my  two  sisters  for  eighty  pounds  a 
year,  I  did  not  know  that  you  had  other  resources  than 
those  mentioned  in  my  blessed  father's  will." 

This  I  said  to  her  because  I  hated  the  meanness  of 
concealment,  not  because  T  lost  by  the  bargain  of 
boarding  them,  for  the  three  poor  things  did  not  eat 
much  more  than  sparrows ;  and  I've  often  since  calcu- 
lated that  I  had  a  clear  twenty  pounds  a  year  profit  out 
of  them. 

Mamma  and  the  girls  looked  quite  astonished  when 
I  made  the  speech.  "  What  does  he  mean  ?"  said 
Lucy  to  Eliza. 

Mamma  repeated  the  question,  "  My  beloved 
Robert,  what  concealment  are  you  talking  of?" 

"  I  am  talking  of  concealed  property,  ma'am,"  says 
I  sternly. 

"  And  do  you — what — can  you — do  you  really  sup- 
pose that  I  have  concealed — any  of  that  blessed 
sa-a-a-aint's  prop-op-op-operty  ?"  screams  out  mamma. 
"  Robert,"  says  she,  "  Bob,  my  own  darling  boy — my 


72  DOGS   HAVE    THEIR   DAYS. 

fondest,  best  beloved,  now  he  is  gone")  meaning  my 
late  governor — more  tears),  "  you  don't,  you  cannot 
fancy  that  your  own  mother,  who  bore  you,  and  nursed 
you,  and  wept  for  you,  and  would  give  her  all  to  save 
you  from  a  moment's  harm — you  don't  suppose 
that  she  would  che-e-e-eat  you !"  and  here  she  gave 
a  louder  screech  than  ever,  and  flung  back  on  the 
sofa,  and  one  of  my  sisters  went  and  tumbled  into 
her  arms,  and  t'other  went  round,  and  the  kissing  and 
slobbering  scene  went  on  again,  only  I  was  left  out, 
thank  goodness ;  I  hate  such  sentimentality. 

"  Che-e-eat  me,"  says  I,  mocking  her.  "  What  do 
you  mean,  then,  by  saying  you're  so  rich.  Say,  have 
you  got  money  or  liave  you  not  ?"  (and  I  rapped  out 
a  good  number  of  oaths,  too,  which  I  don't  put  in 
here ;  but  I  was  in  a  dreadful  fury,  that's  the  fact.) 

"  So  help  me,  Heaven,"  says  mamma,  in  answer, 
going  down  on  her  knees,  and  smacking  her  two  hands ; 
"  I  have  but  a  Queen  Anne's  guinea  in  the  whole  of 
this  wicked  world." 

'■  Then  what,  madam,  induces  you  to  tell  these  ab- 
surd stories  to  me,  and  to  talk  about  your  riches,  when 


DOGS  HAVE    THEIR   DAYS.  73 

you  know  that  you  and  your  daughters  are  beggars, 
ma'am,  beggars  ?" 

"  My  dearest  boy,  have  we  not  got  the  house,  and 
the  furniture, and  a  hundred  a  year  still;  and  have  you 
not  great  talents  which  will  make  all  our  fortunes  ?" 
says  Mrs.  Stubbs,  getting  up  off  her  knees,  and  making 
believe  to  smile  as  she  clawed  hold  of  my  hand  and 
kissed  it. 

Tliis  was  too  cool.  "  You  have  got  a  hundred  a 
year,  ma'am,"  says  I,  '■^you  got  a  house:  upon  my  soul 
and  honor  this  is  the  first  I  ever  heard  of  it,  and  I'll 
tell  you  what,  ma'am,"  says  I  (and  it  cut  her  freity 
sharply  too) , "  as  you've  got  it,  you'd  belter  go  and  live 
in  it.  I've  got  quite  enough  to  do  with  my  own  house 
and  every  penny  of  my  own  income." 

Upon  this  speech  the  old  lady  said  nothing,  but  she 

gave  a  screech  loud  enough  to  be  heard  from  here  to 

York,  and  down  she  fell — kicking  and  struggling  in  a 

regular  fit. 

*  *  *  * 

I  did  not  see  Mrs.  Stubbs  for  some  days  after  this, 

and  the  girls  used  to  come  down  to  meals,  and  never 


74  DOGS  HAVE  THEIR  DAYS. 

speak ;  going  up  again  and  stopping  with  their  mother 
At  last,  one  day,  both  of  them  came  in  very  solemn  to 
my  study,  and  Eliza,  the  eldest,  said,  "  Robert,  mamma 
has  paid  you  our  board  up  to  Michaelmas." 

"  She  has,"  says  I ;  for  I  always  took  precious  good 
care  to  have  it  in  advance. 

"  Slie  says,  John,  that  on  Michaelmas  day  —  we'll 
—  we'll  go  away,  John." 

"  O,  she's  going  to  her  own  house,  is  she,  Lizzy  ? 
very  good  ;  she'll  want  the  furniture,  I  suppose,  and 
that  she  may  liave  too,  for  I'm  going  to  sell  the  place 
myself;"  and  so  that  matter  was  settled. 

*  *  *  * 

On  Michaelmas  day,  and  during  these  two  months, 
I  hadn't,  I  do  beUeve,  seen  my  mother  twice  (once, 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  I  woke  and  found 
her  sobbing  over  my  bed).  On  Michaelmas  day  morn- 
ing, Eliza  comes  to  me  and  says,  "  John,  they  will  come 
and  fetch  us  at  six  this  evening."  Well,  as  this  was 
the  last  day,  I  went  and  got  the  best  goose  I  could  find 
(I  don't  think  I  ever  saw  a  primer,  or  ate  more  hearty 


DOGS  HAVE  THEIR  DATS.  75 

myself),  and  had  it  roasted  at  three,  with  a  good  pud- 
ding afterwards;  and  a  glorious  bowl  of  punch.  "Here's 
a  health  to  you,  dear  girls,"  says  I,  "  and  you,  ma,  and 
good  luck  to  all  three,  and  as  you've  not  eaten  a  mor- 
sel, I  hope  you  won't  object  to  a  glass  of  punch.  It's 
the  old  stuiF,  you  know,  ma'am,  that  that  Waters  sent 
to  my  father  fifteen  years  ago." 

Six  o'clock  came,  and  with  it  came  a  fine  barouche, 
as  I  live  !  Captain  Waters  was  on  the  box  (it  was  his 
coach)  ;  that  old  thief,  Bates,  jumped  out,  entered  my 
house,  and,  before  I  could  say  Jack  Robinson,  whipped 
off  mamma  to  the  carriage ;  the  girls  followed,  just 
giving  me  a  hasty  shake  of  the  hand,  and  as  mamma 
was  helped  in,  Mary  Waters,  who  was  sitting  inside, 
flung  her  arms  round  her,  and  round  the  girls,  and  the 
Doctor,  who  acted  footman,  jumped  on  the  box,  and  oiF 
they  went ;  taking  no  more  notice  of  me  than  if  I'd 
been  a  nonentity. 

There's  the  picture  of  the  whole  business; — that's 
mamma  and  Miss  Waters  sitting  kissing  each  other  in 
the  carriage,  with  the  two  girls  in  the  back  seat;  Waters 


76  DOGS  HAVE   THEIR   DATS. 

is  driving  (a  precious  bad  driver  he  is  too),  and  that's 
me,  standing  at  the  garden  door,  and  whistUng.  You 
can't  see  Mary  Malowney ;  the  old  fool  is  crying  behind 
the  garden  gate ;  she  went  off  next  day  along  with  the 
furniture ;  and  I  to  get  into  that  precious  scrape  which 
I  shall  mention  next. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


PLTTCKING     A     GOOSE- 


After  my  papa's  death,  as  he  left  me  no  money,  and 
only  a  little  land,  I  put  my  estate  into  an  auctioneer's 
hands,  and  determined  to  amuse  my  solitude  with  a 
trip  to  some  of  our  fashionable  watering  places.  My 
house  was  now  a  desert  to  me.  I  need  not  say  how 
the  departure  of  my  dear  parent,  and  her  children,  left 
me  sad  and  lonely. 

Well,  I  had  a  little  ready  money,  and,  for  the  es- 
tate, expected  a  couple  of  thousand  pounds.  I  had  a 
good  military-looking  person ;  for  though  I  had  abso- 
lutely cut  the  old  North-Bungays  (indeed,  after  my  affair 
with  Waters,  Colonel  Craw  hinted  to  me,  in  the  most 
friendly  manner,  that  I  had  better  resign),  though  I 
had  left  the  army,  I  still  retained  the  rank  of  Captain  ; 


78  PLUCKING    A    GOOSE. 

knowing  the  advantages  attendant  upon  that  title,  in  a 
watering-place  tour. 

Captain  Stubbs  became  a  great  dandy  at  Chelten- 
ham, Harrowgate,  Bath,  Leamington,  and  other  places. 
I  was  a  good  whist  and  billiard  player ;  so  much  so, 
that  in  many  of  these  towns,  the  people  used  to  refuse, 
at  last,  to  play  with  me,  knowing  how  far  I  was  their 
superior.  Fancy,  my  surprise,  about  five  years  after 
the  Portsmouth  affair,  when  strolling  one  day  up  the 
High  street,  in  Leamington,  my  eyes  lighted  upon  a 
young  man,  whom  I  remembered  in  a  certain  butcher's 
yard,  and  elsewhere — no  other,  in  fact,  than  Dobble. 
He,  too,  was  dressed  en  militaire,  with  a  frogged  coat 
and  spurs  ;  and  was  walking  with  a  showy-looking, 
Jewish-faced,  black-haired  lady,  glittering  with  chains 
and  rings,  with  a  green  bonnet,  and  a  bird  of  Paradise 
— a  lilac  shawl,  a  yellow  gown,  pink  silk  stockings, 
and  light-blue  shoes.  Three  children,  and  a  handsome 
footman,  were  walking  behind  her,  and  the  party,  not 
seeing  me,  entered  the  Royal  Hotel  together. 

I  was  known,  myself,  at  the  Royal,  and  calling  one 


PLUCKING    A   GOOSE.  79 

of  the  waiters,  learned  the  names  of  the  lady  and  gen- 
tleman. He  was  Captain  Dobble,  the  son  of  the  rich 
army  clotluer,  Dobble  (Dobble,  Hobble  &  Co.,  of  Pall 
Mall)  ; — the  lady  was  a  Mrs.  Manasseh,  widow  of  an 
American  Jew,  living  quietly  at  Leamington  with  her 
children,  but  possessed  of  an  immense  property. 
There's  no  use  to  give  one's  self  out  to  be  an  absolute 
pauper ;  so  the  fact  is,  that  I  myself,  went  every  where 
with  the  character  of  a  man  of  very  large  means. 
My  father  had  died,  leaving  me  immense  sums  of  mo- 
ney, and  landed  estates — ah !  I  was  the  gentleman 
then,  the  real  gentleman,  and  every  body  was  too 
happy  to  have  me  at  table. 

Well,  I  came  the  next  day,  and  left  a  card  for 
Dobble,  with  a  note  : — he  neither  returned  my  visit, 
nor  answered  my  note.  The  day  after,  however,  I 
met  him  with  the  widow,  as  before ;  and,  going  up  to 
him.  very  kindly  seized  him  by  the  hand,  and  swore  I 
was — as  really  was  the  case — charmed  to  see  him. 
Dobble  hung  back,  to  my  surprise,  and  I  do  believe 
the  creature  would  have  cut  me,  if  he  dared ;  but  I 
gave  him  a  frown,  and  said — 


80  PLUCKING   A   GOOSE. 

"What,  Debbie,  my  boy,  don't  you  recollect  old 
Stubbs,  and  our  adventure  with  the  butcher's  daugh- 
ters, ha  ?" 

Dobble  gave  a  sickly  kind  of  grin,  and  said,  "  Oh  ! 
ah  !  yes  !  It  is — yes  !  it  is,  I  believe,  Captain  Stubbs  !" 

"An  old  comrade,  madam,  of  Captain  Dobble's, 
and  one  who  has  heard  s©  much,  and  seen  so  much,  of 
your  ladyship,  that  he  must  take  the  liberty  of  begging 
his  friend  to  introduce  him." 

Dobble  was  obliged  to  take  the  hint ;  and  Captain 
Stubbs  was  duly  presented  to  Mrs.  Manasseh ;  the 
lady  was  as  gracious  as  possible :  and  when,  at  the 
end  of  the  walk,  we  parted,  she  said,  "  she  hoped  Cap- 
tain Dobble  would  bring  me  to  her  apartments  that 
evening,  where  she  expected  a  few  friends."  Every 
body,  you  see,  knows  every  body  at  Leamington ;  and  I, 
for  my  part,  was  well  known  as  a  retired  officer  of  the 
army  ;  who,  on  his  father's  death,  had  come  into  seven 
thousand  a  year.  Dobble's  arrival  had  been  subse- 
quent to  mine,  but  putting  up,  as  he  did,  at  the  Royal 
Hotel,  and  dining  at  the  ordinary  there  with  the  wid- 


PLUCKING   A   GOOSE.  81 

ow,  he  had  made  his  acquaintance  before  I  had.  I 
saw,  however,  that  if  I  allowed  him  to  talk  about  me, 
as  he  could,  I  should  be  compelled  to  give  up  all  my 
hopes  and  pleasures  at  Leamington ;  and  so  I  deter- 
mined to  be  short  with  him.  As  soon  as  the  lady  had 
gone  into  the  hotel,  my  friend,  Dobble,  was  for  leaving 
me  likewise  ;  but  I  stopped  him,  and  said,  "  Mr.  Dob- 
ble, I  saw  what  you  meant  just  now,  you  wanted  to 
cut  me,  because,  forsooth,  I  did  not  choose  to  fight  a 
duel  at  Portsmouth ;  now  look  you,  Dobble,  I  am  no 
hero,  but  I'm  not  such  a  coward  as  you — and  you 
know  it.  You  are  a  very  different  man  to  deal  with 
from  Waters  ;  and  /  will  fight  this  time." 

Not,  perhaps,  that  I  would ;  but  after  the  business 
of  the  butcher,  I  knew  Dobble  to  be  as  great  a  cow- 
ard as  ever  lived ;  and  there  never  was  any  harm  in 
threatening,  for  you  know  you  are  not  obliged  to  stick 
to  it  afterwards.  My  words  had  their  effect  upon 
Dobble,  who  stuttered,  and  looked  red,  and  then  de- 
clared, he  never  had  the  slightest  intention  of  passing 
me  by ;  so  we  became  friends,  and  his  mouth  was 
stopped. 


82  PLUCKING   A   GOOSE. 

He  was  very  thick  with  the  widow ;  but  that  lady 
had  a  very  capacious  heart,  and  there  were  a  number 
of  other  gentlemen  who  seemed  equally  smitten  with 
her.  "  Look  at  that  Mrs.  Manasseh,"  said  a  gentle- 
man (it  was  droll,  he  was  a  Jew,  too),  sitting  at  dinner 
by  me  ;  "  she  is  old,  and  ugly,  and,  yet,  because  she 
has  money,  all  the  men  are  flinging  themselves  at 
her." 

"  She  has  money,  has  she  ?" 

Eighty  thousand  pounds,  and  twenty  thousand  for 
each  of  her  children ;  I  know  it  for  a  fact"  said  the 
strange  gentleman.  "  I  am  in  the  law,  and  we,  of  our 
faith,  you  know,  know  pretty  well  what  the  great  fam- 
ilies amongst  us  are  worth." 

"  Who  was  Mr.  Manasseh  ?"  said  I. 

"  A  man  of  enormous  wealth — a  tobacco  merchant 
— West  Indies  ;  a  fellow  of  no  birth,  however ;  and 
who,  between  ourselves,  married  a  woman  that  is  not 
much  better  than  she  should  be.  My  dear  sir,"  whis- 
pered he,  "  she  is  always  in  love — now  it  is  with  that 
Captain  Dobble  ;  last  week  it  was  somebody  else — and 


PLUCKING    A    GOOSE.  83 

it  may  be  you  next  week,  if — ha !  ha !  ha  ! — you  are 
disposed  to  enter  the  lists. 

"  I  wouldn't,  for  my  part,  have  the  woman,  with 
twice  her  money." 

What  did  it  matter  to  me,  whether  the  woman  was 
good,  or  not,  provided  she  was  rich  ?  My  course  was 
quite  clear.  I  told  Dobble  all  that  this  gentleman  had 
informed  me,  and,  being  a  pretty  good  hand  at  making 
a  story,  I  made  the  widow  appear  so  bad,  that  the  poor 
fellow  was  quite  frightened,  and  fairly  quitted  the  field. 
Ha !  ha !  I'm  dashed  if  I  did  not  make  him  believe 
that  Mrs.  Manasseh  had  murdered  her  last  husband. 

I  played  my  game  so  well,  thanks  to  the  informa- 
tion that  my  friend,  the  lawyer,  had  given  me,  that,  in 
a  month,  I  had  got  the  widow  to  show  a  most  decided 
partiality  for  me ;  I  sat  by  her  at  dinner,  I  drank  with 
her  at  the  wells — I  rode  with  her,  I  danced  with  her, 
and,  at  a  pic-nic  to  Kenilworth,  where  we  drank  a 
good  deal  of  champagne,  I  actually  popped  the  ques- 
tion, and  was  accepted.     In  another  month,  Robert 


84  PLUCKING   A   GOOSE. 

Stubbs,  Esq.,  led  to  the  altar,  Leah,  widow  of  the  late 
Z.  Manasseh,  Esq.,  of  St.  Kitt's ! 

:f:  4:  %  %  4:  % 

We  drove  up  to  London  in  her  comfortable  char- 
iot ;  the  children  and  servants  following  in  a  post- 
chaise.  I  paid,  of  course,  for  every  thing ;  and  until 
our  house,  in  Berkeley  square,  was  painted,  we  stopped 
at  Stevens's  hotel. 

*  ^f:  *  %  *  * 

My  own  estate  had  been  sold,  and  the  money  was 
lying  at  a  bank,  in  the  city.  About  three  days  after 
our  arrival,  as  we  took  our  breakfast  in  the  hotel,  pre- 
vious to  a  visit  to  Mrs.  Stubbs's  banker,  where  certain 
little  transfers  were  to  be  made — a  gentleman  was  in- 
troduced, who,  I  saw  at  a  glance,  was  of  my  wife's 
persuasion. 

He  looked  at  Mrs.  Stubbs,  and  made  a  bow  ;  "  Per- 
haps it  will  be  convenient  to  you  to  pay  this  little  bill, 
one  hundred  and  fifty-two  pounds." 

"  My  love,"  says  she,  "  will  you  pay  this — it  is  a  tri- 
fle which  I  had  really  forgotten."  "  My  soul !"  said 
I,  "  I  have  really  not  tlie  money  in  the  house." 


PLUCKING  A  GOOSE.  86 

"  Vel,  denn,  Captain  Stubbsh,"  says  he,  "  I  must 
do  my  duty — and  arrest  you — here  is  the  writ !  Tom, 
keep  the  door  !" — My  wife  fainted — the  children 
screamed,  and  I — fancy  my  condition,  as  I  was 
obhged  to  march  off  to  a  spunging  house,  along  with 
a  horrid  sheriff's  officer ! 


CHAPTER  X. 

MARS     AND     VENUS    IN    OPPOSITION. 

I  SHALL  not  describe  my  feelings  when  I  fonnd  myself 
in  a  cage  in  Cursitor  street,  instead  of  that  fine  house 
in  Berkeley  square,  which  was  to  have  been  mine  as 
the  husband  of  Mrs.  Manasseh.  What  a  palace  ! — in 
an  odious,  dismal  street  leading  from  Chancery  lane — 
a  hideous  Jew  boy  opened  the  second  of  three  doors ; 
and  shut  when  Mr.  Nabb  and  I  (almost  fainting)  had 
entered :  then  he  opened  the  third  door,  and  then  I 
was  introduced  to  a  filthy  place,  called  a  coffee-room, 
which  I  exchanged  for  the  solitary  comfort  of  a  little 
dingy  back  parlor,  where  I  was  left  for  a  while  to 
brood  over  my  miserable  fate.  Fancy  the  change  be- 
tween this  and  Berkeley  square  !  Was  I,  after  all 
my  pains,  and  cleverness,  and  perseverance,  cheated 


MARS   AND   VENUS   IN   OPPOSITION.  87 

at  last  ?  Had  this  Mrs.  Manasseli  been  imposing  upon 
me,  and  were  the  words  of  the  wretch  I  met  at  the 
table-d'h6te  at  Leamington,  only  meant  to  mislead  me 
and  take  me  in  ?  I  determined  to  send  for  my  wife, 
and  know  the  whole  truth.  I  saw  at  once  tliat  I  had 
been  the  victim  of  an  infernal  plot,  and  that  the  car- 
riage, the  house  in  town,  the  West  India  fortune, 
were  only  so  many  lies  which  I  had  blindly  believed. 
It  was  true  the  debt  was  but  a  himdred  and  fifty 
pounds  ;  and  I  had  tv/o  thousand  at  my  bankers.  But 
was  the  loss  of  her  £80,000  nothing  ?  Was  the  de- 
struction of  my  hopes  nothing  ? — The  accursed  addi- 
tion to  my  family  of  a  Jewish  wife,  and  three  Jewish 
children,  nothing  ?  And  all  these  I  was  to  support 
out  of  my  two  thousand  pounds.  I  had  better  have 
stopped  at  home,  with  my  mamma  and  sisters,  whom 
I  really  did  love,  and  who  produced  me  eighty  pounds 
a  year. 

I  had  a  furious  interview  with  Mrs.  Stubbs ;  and 
when  I  charged  her,  the  base  wretch !  with  cheating 
me,  like  a  brazen  serpent,  as  she  was,  she  flung  back 


88  MARS   AND   VENUS   IN   OPPOSITION. 

the  cheat  in  my  teeth,  and  swore  I  had  swindled  her. 
Why  did  I  marry  her,  when  she  might  have  had  twen- 
ty others  ?  She  only  took  me,  she  said,  because  I  had 
twenty  thousand  pounds.  I  had  said  I  possessed  that 
sum ;  but  in  love,  you  know,  and  war,  all's  fair. 

We  parted  quite  as  angrily  as  we  met ;  and  I  cor- 
dially vowed  that  when  I  had  paid  the  debt  into  which 
I  had  been  swindled  by  her,  I  would  take  my  £2,000, 
and  depart  to  some  desert  island ;  or,  at  the  very  least, 
to  America,  and  never  see  her  more,  or  any  of  her  Is- 
raelitish  brood.  There  was  no  use  in  remaining  in 
the  spunging-house  (for  I  knew  that  there  were  such 
things  as  detainers,  and  that  where  Mrs.  Stubbs  owed 
a  hundred  pounds,  she  might  owe  a  thousand),  so  I 
sent  for  Mr.  Nabb,  and  tendering  him  a  check  for 
£150,  and  his  costs,  requested  to  be  let  out  forthwith. 
"  Here,  fellow,"  said  I,  "  is  a  check  on  Child's  for  your 
paltry  sum." 

"  It  may  be  a  sheck  on  Shild's,"  says  Mr.  Nabb, 
"  but  I  should  be  a  baby  to  let  you  out  on  such  a  paper 
as  dat." 


MARS   AND   VENUS   IN   OPPOSITION,  89 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  Child's  is  but  a  step  from  this : 
you  may  go  and  get  the  cash, — ^just  giving  me  an 
acknovi^ledgmeiit." 

Nabb  drew  out  the  acknowledgment  with  great 
punctuahty,  and  set  off  for  the  bankers,  whilst  I  pre- 
pared myself  for  departure  from  tliis  abominable 
prison. 

He  smiled  as  he  came  in.  "  Well,"  said  I,  "  you 
have  touched  your  money ;  and  now,  I  must  tell  you, 
that  you  are  the  most  infernal  rogue  and  extortioner  I 
ever  met  with."  i 

"O  no,  Mishter  Shtubbsh,"  says  he,  grinning  still, 
"  dere  is  som  greater  roag  dan  me, — mosh  greater." 

"  Fellow,"  says  I,  "  don't  stand  grinning  before  a 
gentleman ;  but  give  me  my  hat  and  cloak,  and  let  me 
leave  your  filthy  den." 

"  Shtop,  Shtubbsh,"  says  he,  not  even  Mistering 
me  this  time,  "  here  ish  a  letter,  vich  you  had  better 
read." 

I  opened  the  letter :  something  fell  to  the  ground  : 
— it  was  my  check. 


90  MARS   AND    VENUS   IN   OPPOSITION. 

The  letter  ran  thus:  "Messrs.  Childs  &  Co.  pre- 
sent their  compliments  to  Captain  Stubbs,  and  regret 
that  they  have  been  obliged  to  refuse  payment  of  the 
inclosed,  having  been  served  this  day  with  an  attach- 
ment by  Messrs.  Solomonson  &  Co.,  which  compels 
them  to  retain  Captain  Stubbs's  balance  of  £2,010 
lis.  6d.  until  the  decision  of  the  suit  of  Solomonson 
V.  Stubbs. 

"  Fleet  street." 

"  You  see,"  says  Mr.  Nabb,  as  I  read  this  dreadful 
letter,  "  you  see,  Shtubbsh,  dere  vas  two  debts, — a  lit- 
tel  von,  and  a  big  von.  So  dey  arrested  you  for  de  lit- 
tel  von,  and  attashed  your  money  for  de  big  von." 

Don't  laugh  at  me  for  telling  this  story ;  if  you 
knew  what  tears  are  blotting  over  the  paper  as  I  write 
it ;  if  you  knew  that  for  weeks  after  I  was  more  like  a 
madman  than  a  sane  man, — a  madman  in  the  Fleet 
prison,  where  I  went,  instead  of  to  the  desert  island. 
What  had  I  done  to  deserve  it  ?  Hadn't  I  always  kept 
an  eye  to  the  main  chance  ?    Hadn't  I  lived  economi- 


MARS   AND   VENUS   IN   OPPOSITION.  91 

cally,  and  not  like  other  young  men  ?  Had  I  ever 
been  known  to  squander  or  give  away  a  single  penny  ? 
No  !  I  can  laj'  my  hand  on  my  heart,  and,  thank  Heav- 
en, say,  No !     Why,  why  was  I  punished  so  ? 

Let  me  conclude  this  miserable  history.  Seven 
months — my  wife  saw  me  once  or  twice,  and  then 
dropped  me  altogether — I  remained  in  that  fatal  place. 
I  wrote  to  my  dear  mamma,  begging  her  to  sell  her 
furniture,  but  got  no  answer.  All  my  old  friends 
turned  their  backs  upon  me.  My  action  went  against 
me — I  had  not  a  penny  to  defend  it.  Solomonson 
proved  my  wife's  debt,  and  seized  my  two  thousand 
pounds. — As  for  the  detainer  against  me,  I  was  obliged 
to  go  through  the  court  for  the  relief  of  insolvent 
debtors.  I  passed  through  it,  and  came  out  a  beggar. 
But,  fancy  the  malice  of  that  wicked  Stiffelkind ;  he 
appeared  in  court  as  my  creditor  for  £3,  with  sixteen 
years'  interest,  at  five  per  cent.,  for  a  pair  of  top 
BOOTS.  The  old  thief  prodi:ced  them  in  court,  and 
told  the  whole  story — Lord  Coriiwallis,  the  detection, 
pumping,  and  all. 


92  MARS   AND   VENUS  IN  OPPOSITION. 

Commissioner  Dubobwig  was  very  fumiy  about  it. 
"  So  Doctor  Swishtail  would  not  pay  you  for  the  boots, 
eh,  Mr.  StiflFelkind  ?" 

"  No  ;  he  said,  ven  I  asked  him  for  payment,  dey 
was  ordered  by  a  yong  boy,  and  I  ought  to  have  gone 
to  his  schoolmaster." 

"  What,  then,  you  came  on  a  bootless  errand,  ay, 
sir  ?"     (A  laugh.) 

"  Bootless !  no  sare,  I  brought  de  boots  back  vid 
me ;  how  de  devil  else  could  I  show  dem  to  you." 
(Another  laugh.) 

"  You've  never  soled  'em  since,  Mr.  Tickleshins  ?" 

"  I  never  would  sell  dem ;  I  svore  I  never  vood,  on 
porpus  to  be  revenged  on  dat  Stubbs." 

"  What,  your  wound  has  never  been  healed,  eh  ?" 

"  Vat  de  you  mean  vid  your  bootless  errants,  and 
your  soling  and  healing  ?  I  tell  you  I  have  done  vat 
I  svore  to  do ;  I  have  exposed  him  at  school,  I  have 
broak  off  a  marriage  for  him,  ven  he  vould  have  had 
tventy  tousand  pound,  and  now  I  have  showed  him  up 
in  a  court  of  justice  ;  dat  is  vat  I  ave  done,  and  dat's 


MAES  AND   VENUS  IN   OPPOSITION.  93 

enough."  And  then  the  old  wretch  went  down,  whilst 
every  hody  was  giggling  and  staring  at  poor  me — as  if 
I  was  not  miserable  enough  already. 

"  This  seems  the  dearest  pair  of  boots  you  ever 
had  in  your  life,  Mr.  Stubbs,"  said  Commissioner  Du- 
bobwig  very  archly,  and  then  he  began  to  inquire 
about  the  rest  of  my  misfortunes. 

In  the  fulness  of  my  heart  I  told  him  the  whole  of 
them ;  how  Mr.  Solomonson  the  attorney  had  intro- 
duced me  to  the  rich  widow,  Mrs.  Manasseh,  who  had 
fifty  thousand  pounds,  and  an  estate  in  the  West  In- 
dies. How  I  was  married,  and  arrested  on  coming  to 
town,  and  cast  in  an  action  for  two  thousand  pounds, 
brought  against  me  by  this  very  Solomonson  for  my 
wife's  debts. 

"  Stop,"  says  a  lawyer  in  the  court,  "  Is  this  wo- 
man a  showy  black-haired  woman,  with  one  eye  ?  very 
often  drunk,  with  three  children — Solomonson,  short, 
with  red  hair  ?" 

"  Exactly  so,"  says  I,  with  tears  in  my  eyes. 

"  That  woman  has  married  three  men  within  the 


94  MARS   AND   VENUS   IN   OPPOSITION. 

last  two  years.  One  in  Ireland,  and  one  at  Bath.  A 
Solomonson  is,  I  believe,  her  husband,  and  they  both 
are  off  for  America  ten  days  ago." 

"  But  why  did  you  not  keep  your  £2,000  ?"  said 
the  lawyer. 

"  Sir,  they  attached  it." 

"  O  !  well,  we  may  pass  you  ;  you  have  been  un- 
lucky, Mr.  Stubbs,  but  it  seems  as  if  the  biter  had 
been  bit  in  this  affair." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Dubobwig, "  Mr.  Stubbs  is  the  vic- 
tim of  a  FATAL  ATTACHMENT." 


CHAPTER  XL 

A     GENERAL    POST    DELIVERY. 

I  WAS  a  free  man  when  I  went  out  of  the  court ;  but 
I  was  a  beggar — I,  Captain  Stubbs,  of  the  bold  North 
Bungays,  did  not  know  where  I  could  get  a  bed  or  a 
dinner. 

As  I  was  marching  sadly  down  Portugal  street,  I 
felt  a  hand  on  my  shoulder,  and  a  rough  voice  which  I 
knew  well. 

"  Veil,  Mr.  Stobbs,  have  I  not  kept  my  promise  ? 
I  told  you  dem  boots  would  be  your  ruin." 

I  was  much  too  miserable  to  reply ;  and  only  cast 
up  my  eyes  towards  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  which  I 
could  not  see  for  the  tears. 

"  Vat !  you  begin  to  gry  and  blobber  like  a  shild  ? 
you  vood  marry,  vood  you,  and  noting  vood  do  for  you 


96  A   GENERAL   POST   DELIVERY. 

but  a  vife  vid  monny — ha,  ha — but  you  vere  de  pigeon, 
and  she  vas  de  grow.  She  has  plocked  you,  too,  pret- 
ty veil— eh  ?  ha!  ha!" 

"  O,  Mr.  StifFelkind,"  said  I,  "  don't  laugh  at  my 
misery ;  she  has  not  left  me  a  single  shilling  under 
heaven.  And  I  shall  starve,  I  do  beheve  I  shall 
starve."     And  I  began  to  cry  fit  to  break  my  heart. 

"  Starf !  stofF  and  nonsense — you  vil  never  die  of 
starfing — you  vil  die  of  hanging,  I  tink,  ho  !  ho !  and 
it  is  moch  easier  vay  too."  I  didn't  say  a  word,  but 
cried  on :  till  every  body  in  the  street  turned  round  and 
stared. 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Stiffelkind,  "  do  not  gry,  Gap- 
tain  Stobbs — it  is  not  goot  for  a  Gaptain  to  gry,  ha  ! 
ha !  Dere — come  vid  me,  and  you  shall  have  a  din- 
ner, and  a  bregfast  too — vich  shall  gost  you  nothing, 
until  you  can  bay  vid  your  earnings." 

And  so  this  curious  old  man,  who  had  persecuted 
me  all  through  my  prosperity,  grew  compassionate 
towards  me  in  my  ill-luck ;  and  took  me  home  with 
him  as  he  promised.     "  I  saw  your  name  among  de  in- 


A  GENERAL   POST   DELIVERY.  97 

solvents — and  I  vowed,  you  know,  to  make  you  repent 
dem  boots.  Dare,  now,  it  is  done  and  forgotten,  look 
you.  Here  Betty,  Bettchen,  make  de  spare  bed,  and 
put  a  clean  knife  and  fork ;  Lort  Cornvallis  is  come  to 
dine  vid  me." 

I  lived  with  this  strange  old  man  for  six  weeks.  I 
kept  his  books,  and  did  what  little  I  could  to  make  my- 
self useful :  carrying  about  boots  and  shoes,  as  if  I 
had  never  borne  His  Majesty's  commission.  He  gave 
me  no  money,  but  he  fed  and  lodged  me  comfortably. 
The  men  and  boys  used  to  laugh,  and  call  me  General, 
and  Lord  Cornwallis,  and  all  sorts  of  nick-names — and 
old  Stiffelkind  made  a  thousand  new  ones  for  me. 

One  day,  I  can  recollect — one  miserable  day,  as  I 
was  polishing  on  the  trees  a  pair  of  boots  of  Mr.  Stif- 
felkind's  manufacture — the  old  gentleman  came  into 
the  shop,  with  a  lady  on  his  arm. 

"  Vera  is  Gaptain  Stobbs,"  says  he,  "  vere  is  dat 
ornament  to  His  Majesty's  service  ?" 

I  came  in  from  the  back  shop,  where  I  was  polish- 
ing the  boots,  with  one  of  them  in  my  hand. 


98  A   GENERAL   POST   DELI\'ERY. 

"  Look,  my  dear,"  says  he,  "  here  is  an  old  friend 
of  yours,  His  Excellency  Lort  Cornvallis  ! — Who 
would  have  thought  such  a  nobleman  vood  turn  shoe- 
black ?  Gaptain  Stobbs,  here  is  your  former  flame, 
my  dear  niece,  Miss  Grotty — how  could  you,  Magda- 
len, ever  leaf  soch  a  lof  of  a  man  ?  Shake  hands 
vid  her,  Gaptain ; — dere,  never  mind  de  blacking  ;"  but 
Miss  drev(^  back. 

"  I  never  shake  hands  with  a  shoeblack"  says  she, 
mighty  contemptuous. 

"  Bah !  my  lof,  his  fingers  vont  soil  you,  don't  you 
know  he  has  just  been  vilevashed?" 

"  I  wish,  uncle,"  says  she,  "  you  would  not  leave 
me  with  such  low  people." 

"  Low,  because  he  cleans  boots  ?  de  Gaptain  pre- 
fers fumps  to  boots  I  tink,  ha  !  ha  !" 

"  Captain,  indeed !  a  nice  Captain,"  says  ]\Iiss 
Crutty,  snapping  her  fingers  in  my  face,  and  walking 
away  ;  "  a  Captain,  who  has  had  his  nose  pulled  !  ha  ! 
ha  !" — And  how  could  I  help  it  ?  it  wasn't  by  my  own 
choice  that  that  ruffian  Waters  took  such  hberties  with 


A   GENERAL   POST  DELIVERY.  99 

me  ;  didn't  I  show  how  averse  I  was  to  all  quarrels  by 
refusing  altogether  his  challenge  ? — but  such  is  the 
world:  and  thus  the  people  at  Stiffelkind's  used  to 
tease  me  until  they  drove  me  almost  mad. 

At  last  he  came  home  one  day  more  merry  and 
abusive  than  ever.  "  Gaptain,"  says  he,  "  I  have  goot 
news  for  you — a  goot  place.  Your  lortship  vill  not  be 
able  to  geep  your  garriage,  but  you  vil  be  gomfortable 
and  serve  His  Majesty. 

"  Serve  His  Majesty."  says  I :  "  dearest  Mr.  Stif- 
felkind,  have  you  got  me  a  place  under  Government  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  somting  better  still — not  only  a  place, 
but  a  uniform — yes,  Gabdain  Stobbs,  a  red  goat." 

"  A  red  coat !  I  hope  you  don't  think  I  would  de- 
mean myself  by  entering  the  ranks  of  the  army.  I 
am  a  gentleman,  Mr.  StifFelkind — I  can  never — no,  I 
never." 

"  No,  I  know  yon  will  never — you  are  too  great  a 
goward,  ha  !  ha  ! — though  dis  is  a  red  goat,  and  a 
place  where  you  must  give  some  hard  knocks  too,  ha  ! 
ha ! — do  you  gomprehend  ? — and  you  shall  be  a  gener- 
al, instead  of  a  gabdain — ha  !  ha !" 


100  A  GENERAL   POST    DELIVERY. 

"  A  general  in  a  red  coat !  Mr.  StifFelkind  ?" 
"Yes,  a  GENERAL  BOSTMAN  !  ha!  ha!  I 
have  been  vid  your  old  friend,  Bunting,  and  he  has  an 
uncle  in  the  Post  Office,  and  he  has  got  you  de  place 
— eighteen  shillings  a  veek,  you  rogue,  and  your  goat. 
You  must  not  oben  any  of  de  letters,  you  know." 

And  so  it  vs^as — I,  Robert  Stubbs,  Esquire,  became 
the  vile  thing  he  named — a  general  postman  ! 
*  *  «  * 

I  w^as  so  disgusted  vs^ith  Stiffelkind's  brutal  jokes, 
w^hich  were  now^  more  brutal  than  ever ;  that  when  I 
got  my  place  in  the  Post  Office,  I  never  went  near  the 
fellow  again — for  though  he  had  done  me  a  favor  in 
keeping  me  from  starvation,  he  certainly  had  done  it 
in  a  very  rude,  disagreeable  manner,  and  showed  a  low 
and  mean  spirit  in  shoving  me  into  such  a  degraded 
place  as  that  of  postman.  But  what  had  I  to  do  ?  I 
submitted  to  fate,  and  for  three  years  or  more,  Robert 
Stubbs,  of  the  North  Bungay  Fencibles,  was 

I  wonder  nobody  recognized  me.  I  lived  in  daily 
fear  the  first  year  ;  but,  afterwards,  grew  accustomed 


A   GENERAL   POST   DELIVERY.  101 

to  my  situation,  as  all  great  men  will  do,  and  wore  my 
red  coat  as  naturallyas  if  I  had  been  sent  into  the 
world  only  for  tlie  purpose  of  being  a  letter-carrier. 

I  was  first  in  the  Whitechapel  district,  where  I 
stayed  for  nearly  three  years,  when  I  was  transferred 
to  Jermyn-street,  and  Duke-street — famous  places  for 
lodgings.  I  suppose  I  left  a  hundred  letters  at  a  house 
in  the  latter  street,  where  lived  some  people  who  must 
have  recognized  me  had  they  but  once  chanced  to  look 
at  me. 

You  see,  that  wlieu  I  left  Slofiem,  and  set  out  iu 
the  gay  world,  my  mamma  had  written  to  me  a  dozen 
times  at  least,  but  I  never  answered  her,  for  I  knew 
she  wanted  money,  and  I  detest  writing.  Well,  she 
stopped  her  letters,  finding  she  could  get  none  from 
me : — but  when  I  was  in  the  Fleet,  as  I  told  you,  I 
wrote  repeatedly  to  my  dear  mamma,  and  was  not  a 
little  nettled  at  her  refusing  to  notice  me  in  my  dis- 
tress, which  is  the  very  time  one  most  wants  notice. 

Stubbs  is  not  an  uncommon  name ;  and  though  I 
saw  MRS.  STUBBS  on  a  little  bright  brass  plate  irf 
8 


102  A   GENERAL   POST   DELIVERY. 

Duke-street,  and  delivered  so  many  letters  to  the  lodg- 
ers in  her  house,  I  never  thought  of  asking  who  she 
was,  or  whether  she  was  my  relation  or  not. 

One  day  the  young  woman  who  took  in  the  letters 
had  not  got  change,  and  she  called  her  mistress  : — an 
old  lady  in  a  pope  bonnet,  came  out  of  the  parlor,  and 
put  on  her  spectacles,  and  looked  at  the  letter,  and 
fumbled  in  her  pocket  for  eightpence,  and  apologized 
to  the  postman  for  keeping  him  waiting  ;  and  when  I 
said,  "  Never  mind,  ma'am,  it's  no  trouble,"  the  old 
lady  gave  a  start,  and  then  she  pulled  off  her  specta- 
cles, and  staggered  back  ;  and  then  she  began  mutter- 
ing, as  if  about  to  choke  ;  and  then  she  gave  a  great 
screech,  and  flung  herself  into  my  arms,  and  roared 
out,  «  MY  SON,  MY  SON  !" 

"  Law,  mamma,"  said  I,  "  is  that  you  ?"  and  I  sat 

down  on  the  hall  bench  with  her,  and  let  her  kiss  me 

as  much  as  ever  she  liked.     Hearing  the  whining  and 

crying,  down  comes  another  lady  from  up  stairs, — it 

was  my  sister  Eliza ;  and  down  came  the    lodgers. 

s 

And  the  maid  gets  water  and  what  not,  and  I  was  the 


A   GENERAL   POST   DELIVERY.  103 

regular  hero  of  the  group.  I  could  not  stay  long 
then,  having  my  letters  to  deliver.  But,  in  the  eve- 
ning, after  mail-time,  I  went  back  to  my  mamma  and 
sister ;  and,  over  a  bottle  of  prime  old  Port,  and  a  pre- 
cious good  leg  of  boiled  mutton  and  turnips,  made 
myself  pretty  comfortable,  I  can  tell  you. 


CHAPTER  XIL 

"the   WINTER     OF     OUR    DISCONTENT." 

Mamma  had  kept  the  house  in  Duke-street  for  more 
than  two  years.  I  recollected  some  of  the  chairs  and 
tables,  from  dear  old  Squiggle,  and  the  bowl  in  which 
I  had  made  that  famous  rum  punch,  the  evening  she 
went  away,  which  she  and  my  sisters  left  untouched, 
and  I  was  obliged  to  drink  after  they  were  gone  :  but 
that's  not  to  the  purpose. 

Think  of  my  sister  Mary's  luck!  That  chap, 
Waters,  fell  in  love  with  her,  and  married  her ;  and 
she  now  keeps  her  carriage,  and  lives  in  state  near 
Squiggle.  I  offered  to  make  it  up  with  Waters ;  but 
he  bears  malice,  and  never  will  see  or  speak  to  me. 
He  had  the  impudence,  too,  to  say,  that  he  took  in  all 
letters  for  mamma  at  Squiggle  ;  and  that  as  mine  were 


'THE    AVINTER   OF   OUR   DISCONTENT.'"'  105 

all  begging  letters,  he  burned  them,  and  never  said  a 
word  to  her  concerning  them.  He  allowed  mamma 
fifty  pounds  a  year,  and,  if  she  were  not  such  a  fool, 
she  might  have  had  three  times  as  much  ;  hut  the  old 
lady  was  high  and  mighty,  forsooth,  and  would  not  be 
beholden,  even  to  her  own  daughter,  for  more  than  she 
actually  wanted.  Even  this  fifty  pounds  she  was  go- 
ing to  refuse ;  but  when  I  came  to  live  with  her,  of 
course  I  wanted  pocket  money  as  well  as  board  and 
lodging,  and  so  I  had  the  fifty  pounds  for  my  share, 
and  eked  out  with  it  as  well  as  I  could. 

Old  Bates  and  the  Captain,  between  them,  gave 
mamma  a  hundred  pounds  when  she  left  me  (she  had 
the  deuce's  own  luck,  to  be  sure — much  more  than 
ever  fell  to  me,  I  know),  and  as  she  said  she  would  try 
and  work  for  her  living,  it  was  thought  best  to  take  a 
house  and  let  lodgings,  which  she  did.  Our  first  and 
second  floor  paid  us  four  guineas  a  week,. on  an  aver- 
age ;  and  tlie  front  parlor  and  attic  made  forty  pounds 
more.  Mamma  and  Eliza  used  to  have  the  front  attic  ; 
but  /  took  that,  and  they  slept  in  the  servants'  bed- 


106        "the  winter  of  our  discontent." 

room.  Lizzy  had  a  pretty  genius  for  work,  and  earned 
a  guinea  a  week  that  way ;  so  that  we  had  got  nearly 
two  hundred  a  year  over  the  rent  to  keep  house  with, 
— and  we  got  on  pretty  well.  Besides,  women  eat 
nothing ;  my  women  didn't  care  for  meat  for  days  to- 
gether sometimes, — so  that  it  was  only  necessary  to 
dress  a  good  steak  or  so  for  me. 

Mamma  would  not  think  of  my  continuing  in  the 
Post  Office.  She  said  her  dear  John,  her  husband's 
son,  her  gallant  soldier,  and  all  that,  should  remain  at 
home,  and  be  a  gentleman — which  I  was,  certainly, 
though  I  didn't  find  fifty  pounds  a  year  very  much  to 
buy  clothes  and  be  a  gentleman  upon ;  to  be  sure, 
mother  found  me  shirts  and  linen,  so  that  that  wasn't 
in  the  fifty  pounds.  She  kicked  a  little  at  paying  the 
washing  too ;  but  she  gave  in  at  last,  for  I  was  her 
dear  John,  you  know  ;  and  I'm  blest  if  I  could  not 
make  her  give  me  the  gown  off  her  back.  Fancy ! 
once  she  cut  up  a  very  nice  rich  black  silk  scarf, 
which  my  sister  Waters  sent  her,  and  made  me  a 
waistcoat  and  two  stocks  of  it.  She  was  so  very  soft, 
the  old  lady ! 


"the  winter  of  our  discontent."         107 

****** 
I'd  lived  in  this  way  for  five  years  or  more,  making 
myself  content  with  my  fifty  pounds  a  year  (perhaps, 
I'd  saved  a  little  out  of  it ;  but  that's  neither  here  nor 
there).  From  year's  end  to  year's  end  I  remained 
faithful  to  my  dear  mamma,  never  leaving  her  except 
for  a  month  or  so  in  summer,  when  a  bachelor  may 
take  a  trip  to  Gravesend  or  Margate,  which  would  be 
too  expensive  for  a  family.  I  say  a  bachelor,  for  the 
fact  is,  I  don't  know  whether  I  am  married  or  not — 
never  having  heard  a  word  since  of  the  scoundrelly 
Mrs.  Stubbs. 

I  never  went  to  the  public  house  before  meals ; 
for,  with  my  beggarly  fifty  pounds,  I  could  not  afford 
to  dine  away  from  home  ;  but  there  I  had  my  regular 
seat,  and  used  to  come  home  pretty  glorious,  I  can  tell 
you.  Then,  bed  till  eleven  ;  then,  breakfast  and  the 
newspaper;  then,  a  stroll  in  Hyde  Park  or  Saint 
James's  ;  then,  home  at  half-past  three  to  dinner,  when 
I  jollied,  as  I  call  it,  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  I  was 
my  mother's  delight;  and  thus,  with  a  clear  con- 
science, I  managed  to  live  on. 


108  "  THE    WINTEE   OF   OUR   DISCONTENT." 

How  fond  she  was  of  me,  to  be  sure  !  Being  so- 
ciable myself,  and  loving  to  have  my  friends  about  me, 
we  often  used  to  assemble  a  company  of  as  hearty  fel- 
lows as  you  would  wish  to  sit  down  with,  and  keep 
the  nights  up  royally.  "  Never  mind,  my  boys,"  I 
used  to  say,  "  send  the  bottle  round  :  mammy  pays  for 
all,"  as  she  did,  sure  enough ;  and  sure  enough  we 
punished  her  cellar,  too.  The  good  old  lady  used  to 
wait  upon  us,  as  if  for  all  the  world  she  had  been  my 
servant,  instead  of  a  lady  and  my  mamma.  Never 
used  she  to  repine,  though  I  often,  as  I  must  confess, 
gave  her  occasion  (keeping  her  up  till  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  because  she  never  could  sleep  until  she 
saw  her  "  dear  Bob"  in  bed,  and  leading  her  a  sad  and 
anxious  life).  She  was  of  such  a  sweet  temper,  the 
old  lady,  that  I  think  in  the  course  of  five  years  I 
never  knew  her  in  a  passion,  except  twice  :  and  then 
with  sister  Lizzy,  wlio  declared  I  was  ruining  the 
house,  and  driving  the  lodgers  away,  one  by  one. 
But  mamma  would  not  hear  of  such  envious  spite  on 


"the  winter  of  our  discontent."  109 

my  sister's  part.  "  Her  Bob,"  was  always  right,  she 
said.  At  last  Lizzy  fairly  retreated,  and  went  to  the 
Waters's.  I  was  glad  of  it,  for  her  temper  was  dread- 
ful, and  we  used  to  be  squabbhng  from  morning  till 
night. 

Ah,  those  roere  jolly  times !  but  ma  was  obliged  to 
give  up  the  lodging-house  at  last — for,  somehow, 
things  went  wrong  after  my  sister's  departure — the 
nasty  uncharitable  people  said,  on  account  of  me ;  be- 
cause I  drove  away  the  lodgers  by  smoking  and  drink- 
ing, and  kicking  up  noises  in  the  house  ;  and  because 
ma  gave  me  so  much  of  her  money  : — so  she  did,  but 
if  she  would  give  it,  you  know,  how  could  I  help  it  ? 
Heigho !  I  wish  I'd  kept  it. 

No  such  luck.  The  business  I  thought  was  to  last 
for  ever ;  but  at  the  end  of  two  years  a  smash  came — 
shut  up  shop — sell  off  every  thing.  Mamma  went  to 
the  Waters's ;  and,  will  you  believe  it  ?  the  ungrate- 
ful wretches  would  not  receive  me  !  that  Mary,  you 
see,  was  so  disappointed  at  not  marrying  me.  Twenty 
pounds  a  year  they  allow,  it  is  true :  but  what's  that 


110        "the  winter  of  our  discontent." 

for  a  gentleman?  For  twenty  years  I  have  been 
struggling  manfully  to  gain  an  honest  livelihood,  and, 
in  the  course  of  them,  have  seen  a  deal  of  life,  to  be 
sure.  I've  sold  segars  and  pocket  handkerchiefs  at 
the  corners  of  streets  ;  I've  been  a  biUiard-marker ; 
I've  been  Director  ( in  the  panic  year)  of  the  Imperial 
British  Consolidated  Mangle  and  Drying  Ground  Com- 
pany. I've  been  on  the  stage  (for  two  years  an  actor, 
and  about  a  month  as  a  cad,  when  I  was  very  low) ; 
I've  been  the  means  of  giving  to  the  police  of  this  em- 
pire some  very  valuable  information  (about  licensed 
victuallers,  gentlemen's  carts,  and  pawnbrokers' 
names)  ;  I've  been  very  nearly  an  officer  again — that 
is,  an  assistant  to  an  officer  of  the  sheriff  of  Middlesex : 
it  was  my  last  place. 

On  the  last  day  of  the  year  1837,  even  thai  game 
was  up.  It's  a  thing  that  has  very  seldom  happened 
to  a  gentleman,  to  be  kicked  out  of  a  spunging -house ; 
but  such  was  my  case.  Young  Nabbs  (who  succeed- 
ed his  father)  drove  me  ignominiously  from  his  door, 
because  I  had  charged  a  gentleman  in  the  coffee  rooms 


"the  winter  of  our  discontent."         Ill 

seven-and- sixpence  for  a  glass  of  ale  and  bread  and 
cheese,  the  charge  of  the  house  being  only  six  shil- 
lings. He  had  the  meanness  to  deduct  tlie  eighteen- 
pence  from  my  wages,  and,  because  I  blustered  a  bit, 
he  took  me  by  the  shoulders  and  turned  me  out — me, 
a  gentleman,  and,  what  is  more,  a  poor  orphan  ! 

How  I  did  rage  and  swear  at  him  when  I  got  out 
in  the  street !  There  stood  he,  the  hideous  Jew  mon- 
ster, at  the  double  door,  writhing  under  the  effect  of 
my  language.  I  had  my  revenge !  Heads  were 
thrust  out  of  every  bar  of  his  windows,  laughing  at  him. 
A  crowd  gathered  round  me,  as  I  stood  pounding  him 
with  my  satire,  and  they  evidently  enjoyed  his  discom- 
fiture. I  think  the  mob  would  have  pelted  the  ruffian 
to  death  (one  or  two  of  their  missiles  hit  me,  I  can  tell 
you),  when  a  pohceman  came  up,  and,  in  reply  to  a 
gentleman,  who  was  asking  what  was  the  disturbance, 
said,  "  Bless  j'ou,  Sir,  it's  Lord  Cornvvallis."  "  Move 
on,  Boots,"  said  the  fellow  to  me,  for  the  fact  is,  my 
misfortunes  and  early  life  are  pretty  well  known — and 
so  the  crowd  dispersed. 


112  -'THE    WINTER    OF   OUR    DISCONTENT." 

"  What  could  have  made  that  poUcemau  call  you 
Lord  Cornwallis  and  Boots  ?"  said  the  gentleman,  who 
seemed  mightily  amused,  and  had  followed  me.  "  Sir," 
says  I, "  I  am  an  unfortunate  officer  of  the  North  Bun- 
gay Fencibles,  and  I'll  tell  you  willingly  for  a  pint  of 
beer."  He  told  me  to  follow  him  to  his  chambers  at 
the  Temple,  which  I  did  (a  five  pair  back),  and  there, 
sure  enough,  I  had  the  beer ;  and  told  him  this  very 
story  you've  been  reading.  You  see  he  is  what  is 
called  a  literary  man — and  sold  my  adventures  for  me 
to  the  booksellers :  he's  a  strange  chap ;  and  says 
they're  moral. 

I'm  blest  if  /  can  see  any  thing  moral  in  them. 
I'm  sure  I  ought  to  have  been  more  lucky  through  life, 
being  so  very  wide  awake.  And  yet  here  I  am,  with- 
out a  place,  or  even  a  friend,  starving  upon  a  beggarly 
twenty  poimds  a  year — not  a  single  sixpence  more, 
upon  my  honor. 


C  SOUTHERN  llggg^^  jjf** , 

A  A         001  423  271  4 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

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